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OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

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7^^'f^  7^  /^^y^i 


MARGARET 


AND 


HER  BRIDESMAIDS. 


BY     THE     AUTHOR     OF 

"The  Q,ueen  of  the  County,"  «The  Challenge,"  &.o. 


"  Queen  Rose  of  the  Rosebud  garden  of  girls." 

Tennyson. 


FIKST     EDITION". 


LORIN'a,    Fiablislier, 

319   WASHINGTON    STREET, 

BOSTON: 

1864. 


F.  LECTROTYPED    AT    THE 

BOSTON     STEREOTYPE    FOUNDRY, 

4     SPRING     LANE. 


I  §«bicat£  this  ^uh 


TO 


MARGARET,    MY    SISTER, 

FEELING  SURE  THAT  THE  SEVEN  OTHER  SISTERS,  WHO  EQUALLY 

BELONG  TO  US  BOTH,  WILL  APPLAUD  MY  SELECTION, 

AND  APPROVE  OF  MY  BOOK,  IF  ONLY  FOR 

HER    SWEET    SAKE. 


i  :wrj'%  nn 


MARGARET 


AND 


HER    BRIDESMAIDS 


CHAPTER    I. 

In  a  small  room,  furnished  so  as  to  indicate  its  purport,  — a 
study,  —  sat  four  girls.  One,  placed  rather  apart  from  the  others, 
occupied  herself  in  some  fancy-work,  denoting  by  this,  as  well  as 
by  her  age  and  appearance,  that  she  was  no  longer  a  school-girl ; 
neither  could  she  be  mistaken  for  a  governess.  Her  rich  dress 
and  air  rather  pointed  her  out  as  a  parlor-boarder  among  those 
who  were  diligently  occupied  in  painting  and  drawing. 

A  large,  fair,  indolent-looking  gii'l  was  employed  in  copying 
the  picture  of  a  chubby,  smiling  baby,  while  her  neighbor,  a 
dark-haired,  bright-looking  picture  of  a  regular  school-girl,  strove 
in  vain  to  impart  a  beautiful  curl  to  the  mustache  of  a  knight. 
Her  pencil  was  obstinate,  and  evidently  possessed  of  a  common- 
place miud,  for  nothing  could  induce  it,  guided  by  fingers  ever  so 
willing,  to  perform  such  "  a  love  of  a  mustache"  as  the  original 
from  which  it  was  copying. 

In  somewhat  scornful  distance  from  these  two,  sat  a  girl  of 
eighteen,  painting  flowers.  Now  and  then  they  tittered  and 
laughed  together,  in  a  subdued  tone,  as  if  indulging  in  some  jest 
at  the  expense  of  the  flower-painter,  who,  erect  and  disdainful, 
showed  no  other  symptom  of  annoyan.ce  than  a  slight  dilating  of 
her  nostril,  and  a  curl  of  the  lip,  that  approached  a  sneer 
too  nearly  not  to  mar  her  Saxon  beauty. 

The  graceful  worker  by  the  fire  would  raise  her  serene  pure 

eyes  to  the  school-girl  scoflTers,  now  and  then,  Avhen  they  ventured 

a  thought  too  far  for  politeness,  and  they  would  subdue  their 

voices,    as   if  in  answer  to  the  appeal.     Through  the  crevices 

1*  (5) 


6  MARGARET 

of  large  folding  doors  came  the  hum  and  murmur  of  a  busy 
school,  which  opening  now,  filled  the  smaller  room  with  sound, 
until  the  new  comer  >U\it  the  door. 

A  little,  slight,  childish  thing,  with  tliick,  rich  curls  in  liigh 
confusion  all  over  her  head,  proceeded  to  pour  a  quantity 
of  counters,  or  good  marks,  into  a  little  drawer  in  a  bureau. 

"Ah!  Lotty,"  said  the  worker,  "have  vou  really  gained  all 
those  ?  " 

"Where  is  Margaret?"  answered  Lotty,  quickly,  and  looking 
from  one  to  l\n-  other,  Avith  large,  dark  eyes  of  extraordinary  in- 
telligence and  beauty. 

"  She  is  here,"  said  a  soft  voice,  at  the  small  door  of  the 
apartment. 

They  all  exclaimed  in  various  keys  and  phrases  ;  but  Mar- 
garet's face  told  a  tale  that  husiied  them. 

They  had  parted  from  her  the  evening  before,  a  gay  school- 
girl, as  thoughtless  and  merry  as  themselves. 

But  some  extraordinary  change  had  taken  place.  ]\Iargaret 
was  blushing,  confused,  her  eyes  veiled,  her  voice  tremulous  a3 
she  said,  in  answer  to  their  queries  as  to  what  had  delayed  her 
so  long,  — 

"  I  have  been  engaged,  I  mean  I  am  engaged  ;  I  have  only 
come  for  a  few  moments,  I  am  going  —  that  is,  I  wished  to  tell 
you  myself,  I  am  going  to  be  married  !  " 

"  Law  !  my  dear !  "  exclaimed  Florence,  the  mustache  at- 
tempter. 

"  How  nice  !"  drawled  Caroline,  the  babv  delineator. 

"  God  bless  my  Margaret  !  "  said  Millicenl,  the  worker. 

"  How  very  strange  !  "  nmrmured  the  scornful  Augusta. 

"A'b  /  "  came  from  the  little  compressed,  angry  lips  of  Lotty. 

"And  mamma,"  continued  tlic  Idushing  bride  elect,  "  permits 
me  to  come  and  ask  you,  1  mean  she  wouhl  be  glad  —  and  you 
know  that  I  shall  be  so  also  ;  O  !  so  happy,  so  pleased,  if  you 
will  all  be  my  ln-idesmaids." 

"  1  shall  be  delighted,  my  love,"  cried  Florence. 

"  How  very  nice  !  "  exclainu'd  Caroline,  with  alacrity. 

"  Witli  heartfelt  jdeasinv,  sweet  Meg,"  whispered  Millicent. 

"  If  it  is  sf)Oii,"  said  Augusta,  scutentiously,  "  1  siiall  be  happy 
to  oblige  you." 

A  most  stremious  and  indignant  "  Never  !  "  burst  from  the  lips 
of  the  little  Lottv,  as  slu;  (led  from  the  room. 

Then  they  all  left  their  several  occupations,  aixl,  iu  utter  deti- 
ance  of  school  houra  and  maaaers,  they  crowded  round  the  blush- 
ing Margaret. 


AND   HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  7 

She  had  taken  shelter  at  this  important  era  of  her  life  in  the 
loving  arms  of  Milly,  her  eyes  glancing  up  but  once,  as  the  lit- 
tle, impetuous  Lotty  left  the  room  ;  then,  the  irrepressible  smile 
of  a  new  gladness  born  in  a  fine  and  sensitive  heart,  broke 
in  dimples  round  her  mouth,  telling  that  tale  the  eyes  hoped  to 
conceal. 

"  What  shall  you  be  married  in,  dear?"  said  Caroline. 

"And  how  will  the  bridesmaids  be  di'essed?"  asked  Florence, 
anxiously. 

"■  Shall  you  be  married  in  church,  or  by  special  license  in  the 
drawing-room  ?  the  latter  is  so  nice,  and  no  trouble,"  said  Caro- 
line. 

"  Don't  have  a  bonnet,  if  you  love  me,  but  be  covered  with  a 
veil  from  head  to  foot,"  cried  Florence.  "And  also  other  flowers 
are  worn  in  the  bridal  Avreath  now,  besides  orange  blossoms, 
which  I  think  a  blessing." 

"A  blessing  on  my  Margaret,"  whispered  Milly's  gentle  voice. 

"  But,  my  dear,  Avho  is  the  happy  man  ?  "  said  Augusta.  "And 
may  I  beg  you  to  be  early  in  naming  the  day,  otherwise  I  know 
not  if  I  can  officiate  as  bridesmaid." 

"Pray,  why  not?"  asked  Florence,  mockingly. 

"  I  may  be  a  bride  myself,"  answered  Augusta,  haughtily. 
"My  marriage  is  likely  to  take  place  Avithin  a  few  months." 

"  To  -whom,  I  wonder  !  "  exclaimed  the  two  girls  sarcastically. 
"  Is  it  the  old  postman,  or  the  policeman  round  the  corner?  " 

"  For  shame  !  "  retorted  Augusta  ;  "  you  judge  of  me  by  your- 
selves ;  a  pair  of  hoiden  school-girls,  who  cannot  see  when  a 
gentleman  shows  his  preference  by  the*  delicate  attentions  of 
a  gentleman.     I  allude  to  Sir  Harold  Leigh." 

"Who?"  said  Margaret,  raiding  herself  from  Millicent's 
arms  ;   "  ah,  no,  Augusta  !  " 

"  Wherefore  not,  my  dear?  Do  you  think  no  one  has  a  lover 
but  yourself?  " 

Margaret  placed  her  hand  on  Augusta's  mouth. 

"  Hush  !  "  she  said,  "  he  is  here,  he  is  with  mamma,  he  is  my 
Harold,  I  am  his  Margaret." 

And  at  this  avowal  the  fair  face  grew  crimson  with  blushes, 
and  was  fain  to  hide  itself  in  Milly's  redundant  curls.  Augusta 
tried  to  laugh  off  her  mistake  with  ill-concealed  dismay,  but  tlie 
other  girls  were  too  happy  in  the  prospects  of  a  wedding  and  all 
its  fun,  to  laugh  at  lier  as  unmercifully  as  she  deserved,  so  that 
she  soon  recovered  her  usual  composure  and  assurance. 

Besides,  they  all  loved  Margaret  so  well,  her  happiness 
absorbed  all  other  feelings. 


8  MARGARET 

Caroliuc  loved  hor,  borausp  phe  was  so  nnselfish  and  generous, 
—  virtues  in  Nvliith  slio  did  uot  .■^liiiie  herself. 

Florence,  because  Margaret  Avas  so  simple  and  ingenuous,  not 
able  to  say  what  she  did  not  think  (a  quality  qtiitc  out  of  Miss 
Florence's  "way,  by  the  by). 

Augusta  loved  her,  or  rather  liked  her,  because  Margaret  was 
rich  and  well-born,  and  freely  imparted  the  advantages  of  the 
first  quality  to  those  who  recinired  them. 

Millicent,  because  she  saw  in  Margaret  a  jiure  and  loving  heart 
like  her  own,  wjthin  the  pious  depths  of  which  none  knew  the 
strength  and  power  that  Avould  come  forth. 

Lotty  loved  her  —  but  Lotty  is  a  wilfid  little  thing,  and  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  say  whom  she  loved,  or  why  she  loved.  One 
thing  alone  was  certain  :  when  Lotty  loved,  it  was  no  half 
measures  —  her  heart  and  soul  were  alike  involved.  liiU  the 
luiusual  connnotion  in  the  iiuier  school-room  had  nuide  itself 
known  through  the  folding  doors,  and  Miss  Pultun,  the  head  gov- 
erness, appeared. 

Millicent  divulged  the  happy  tidings  :  ^Margaret  was  kissed  and 
congratulated,  a  h<diday  given  on  the  spot  to  the  whole  school, 
upon  her  whispered  request,  and,  after  asking  for  JNIillicent  and 
Lotty  to  rcnuiin  the  day  and  evening  with  her,  ]\Iargaret 
de]tartcd. 

A  strange,  fluttering  sensation  filled  her  heart,  as  she  passed 
through  the  garden,  and  heard  the  merry  laughter  and  joyous 
glee  of  her  schoolmates. 

iShe  felt  happy,  but  it  Avas  an  awe-struck  luqipiness,  that  made 
her  think  the  woihl  to(t  small  to  contain  such  ieelings,  and  only 
in  the  pure  and  loi'ty  firmament  oi'  heaven  could  she  find  space 
suilicient  lor  the  love  and  gri'itudc  Avelling  Irom  lier  heart.  It 
seemed  to  her  as  if  a  new  sun,  a  fairer  sky.  a  more  brilliant 
world  was  plai-ed  ])efbre  her  ;  and  yet  she  had  done  nothing,  liail 
no  claim  to  make  I'or  siu-h  gilts.  Tlierclbre  they  might  fade  ; 
to-morrow  they  might  be  gone  —  leaving  behind  that  gray  cloud 
of  blight  and  disappointnu-nt,  consequent  upon  siu'h  a  flood  of 
light  and  happin(";s.  As  she  placed  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  to 
htill  its  tnnuiltiious  })eating,  an<l  that  one  dread  feeling,  "could 
all  this  l)e  real?"  she  heard  a  faint  sob,  which  came  from  behind 
a  tree. 

"My  little  Lotty  I"  exclainud  .Margaret,  springing  to  her 
school-fellow's  side. 

"  "Why  do  you  wish  tf)  marry?"  nnu-nuu-ed  Lotty,  turning  her 
wet  face  from  Mar-raret's  kisses. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  9 

"  Because,  because "  began  Margaret. 

"  Was  not  I  your  husband?"  interrupted  Lotty,  impetuously ; 
"  and  have  not  I  always  been  your  little  fond,  foolish  husband, 
ever  since  I  came  to  school  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  Lotty,  and  so  you  shall  always  be  my  little  school- 
husband." 

"Then  why  do  you  want  another?  I  have  always  been  a 
very  kind,  good  husband ;  mended  all  your  pens,  done  all  your 
sums,  run  all  your  messages,  and  would  have  told  fibs  for  you." 

"  That  last  was  quite  unnecessary,  you  know,  little  Lotty " 

"  Don't  joke  with  me,  I  cannot  bear  it.  But  who  is  he?  I 
don't  mind  your  marrying  one  person  that  I  know  of,  and  if  it 
is  him  I  won't  fret  any  more,  for  it  is  very  fatiguing." 

Margaret  could  only  whisper  the  name. 

Lotty  exclaimed  loudly. 

"  O,  hush,  Lotty  !  "  besought  Margaret. 

"  I  thought  that  man  was  making  love  to  Augusta." 

"  And  so  did  poor  Augusta  herself,"  said  Margaret,  her  eyes 
drooping. 

"  However,"  said  Lotty,  brightening  up,  "  I  always  told  her 
the  truth,  that  he  really  did  not  care  for  her  one  straw,  but 
admired  you  more,  and  I  was  right." 

"  Poor  Augusta  !  "  murmured  Margaret,  her  new  sun,  bright 
■world,  and  happy  feelings  beginning  to  fade. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  she  made  the  most  love,  and  be- 
sides he  has  shown  his  good  taste,  though  he  is  not  the  right 
man,  mind,  Margaret,  so  I  never  Avill  give  my  consent.  He  is 
a  good  judge  of  a  horse,  though ;  Lucifer,  the  steeple-chaser, 
belongs  to  him ;  I  should  like  to  ride  that  horse.  Queen  Meg." 

"  Nonsense,  Lotty  !  " 

"Why  say  'nonsense,'  Margaret?  I  will  try  and  reconcile 
myself  to  the  marriage,  if  you  will  ask  Sir  Harold  to  let  me  ride 
Lucifer  sometimes." 

"  He  may  consent,  but  I  shall  not,  Lotty." 

"  Supposing  he  were  to  throw  me,  Avhich  no  horse  ever  did 
yet,  Margaret,  you  won't  care,  you  will  be  thinking  of  your 
lov " 

"  Hush,  you  naughty  Lotty  ;  why  should  I  love  you  less?" 

"  I  might  have  guessed  what  was  going  to  happen,  if  I  had 
had  the  sense  of  a  mouse,  and  then  I  could  have  warned  you, 
Margaret." 

"Against  what,  Lotty?" 

"  Marrying  Sir  Harold  Leigh.  I  know  some  one  who  loves 
you  much  better " 


10  MARGARET 

"  Lotty,  Lotty ! " 

"  Aud  so  this  is  the  reason  vre  have  been  asked  so  often  to 
your  house,  this  half  year,  aud  .Sir  IlaroUl  always  there  ;  and 
thus  it  comes  you  like  to  talk  of  horses  aud  dogs,  and  I,  like 
a  goose,  listening  to  it  all  so  unsuspiciously.  I  dou't  deserve  to 
be  Charlotte  Boauvilliers." 


CHAPTER    II. 

INI.vRGARET  "was  the  only  child  left  to  her  parents  out  of  many, 
and  had  been  born  in  their  old  age  as  it  were. 

Some  of  their  children  had  married  and  loft  descendants,  but 
the  affection  they  had  bestowed  alike  on  son  and  daughter  was 
now  wholly  concentrated  on  the  blooming  girl  of  eighteen.  Not 
even  his  fine  sturdy  grandsons  (all  that  remained  to  him  of  his 
first-born  son)  could  rival,  in  old  Sir  Thomas's  eyes,  the  shadow 
of  his  daughter's  form;  while  *"  Margaret,  my  Margaret,  sweet 
Margaret,"  formed  the  pith  of  all  Lady  Montagu's  conversation. 

To  lose  nothing  of  her  SAveet  company,  they  had  for  the  last 
five  years  lived  in  Bath,  where  Margaret  could  have  the  advan- 
tage of  masters  and  companions  of  her  own  age.  They  Avcre  so 
unselfish  in  their  love,  they  would  not  tie  her  merry  spirit  down 
to  their  aged  fireside,  but  lovingly  said  to  each  other,  "  What 
have  we  now  to  live  for,  but  to  make   Margaret  happy?" 

In  the  merry  companionship  of  her  schoolmates,  the  gentle, 
quiet  home  of  her  parents,  Margaret  had  grown  up,  the  simplest, 
most  innocent-hearted  girl,  as  she  was  almost  the  prettiest  and 
best.  She  had  but  just  experienced  her  first  sorrow,  namely, 
that  she  was  to  leave  school,  and  part  with  her  girlhood's  friends, 
unknowing  if  they  might  meet  again,  Avhen  she  made  that  abrujjt 
entry  into  the  school-room,  with  the  announcement  that  was 
almost  as  startling  to  her  as  to  them.  In  their  daily  school 
■walks  the  girls  were  aware  (as  what  girls  are  not?)  that  they 
attracted  much  attention. 

Some  were  keenly  alive  to  it,  as  Augusta,  Florence,  and  Caro- 
line ;  others  scarcely  noticed  it,  as  Margaret  and  Millicent; 
again,  little  turbulent  spirits  like  Lotty's  were  indignant  at  such 
imj)lied  rudeness. 

Certainly,  the  little  jealous  school-husbuud  had  cause  for  being 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  11 

irate.  No  sooner  did  the  school  emerge  from  the  house-door, 
all  bonneted  and  shawled,  escorted  by,  and  under  the  strict  sur- 
veillance of,  the  English  and  French  governesses,  than  the  hand- 
somest man  in  Bath  came  curveting  down  the  street  on  the 
most  beautiful  horse  in  the  town.  i:^..  .^ 

Slowly,  at  a  funereal  pace,  went  the  well-trained ^ed,  by  the 
long  two-and-two  line ;  the  rider's  eyes  generally  riveted,  as 
Lotty  indignantly  declared,  on  Margaret;  as  Augusta- exultingly 
believed,  on  herself.  The  gaze  (if  she  caught  it)  but  deepened 
the  bloom  on  Margaret's  cheek  ;  but  she  was  too  much  engaged 
to  attend  to  it.  This  was  her  time  for  tailing  stories  to  the  little 
girls,  and  at  present  the  tale  was  most  alarmingly  interesting, 
and  was  duly  repeated  at  night  by  the  one  favored  little  maiden, 
who  heard  it  from  the  fountain's  head,  to  the  others,  when  sup- 
posed to  be  innocently  sleeping. 

Sir  Harold  might  have  been  satisfied  had  he  been  able  to  gain 
as  much  of  Margaret's  attention  as  he  did  of  Augusta's.  But 
after  six  Aveeks'  gazing,  he  found  he  made  no  advance,  so  he 
contrived  an  introduction  to  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Montagu, 

There  he  certainly  was  in  the  same  room  with  the  lovely  face 
which  had  so  riveted  his  attention  as  to  make  him  forget  hunt- 
ing, racing,  and  steeple-chasing,  and  all  other  sports  so  dear  to 
his  heart.     But  he  did  not  make  much  way. 

In  fact,  being  an  experienced  man  of  the  world,  having  been 
courted,  flattered,  spoiled,  and  made  much  of,  he  could  not  under- 
stand the  shy,  sensitive  heart,  that  belonged  to  the  prettiest  face 
he  had  ever  seen. 

One  evening,  after  devoting  a  whole  hour  to  entertaining 
Margaret  with  stories  of  his  horses  and  dogs,  and  seeing,  with 
pleasure,  how  her  shy  eyes  began  furtively  to  glance  up  into  his, 
with  evident  interest ;  how  they  rested  for  full  ten  seconds  on  his 
face,  giving  him  time  to  see  how  dark  and  soft  they  were,  when 
he  told  of  his  favorite  horse's  love  for  him  ;  how  the  half  smile 
was  beginning  to  break  into  irrepressible  dimples,  and  the  rosy 
lips  to  give  glimpses  of  the  little  white  teeth  within,  he  was 
wholly  unprepared  for  the  unrestrained  look  of  delight  with 
which  she  sprang  from  this  most  interesting  conversation  to  greet 
her  school-fellows. 

They  had  been  invited  to  tea  that  evening :  and  as  the  stately 
Augusta  swam  into  the  seat  Margaret  had  so  willingly  vacated, 
he  pished  and  pshawed  himself  into  a  vile  humor,  and  determined 
to  be  revenged.  So  he  devoted  himself  entirely  to  Augusta  ;  and 
when  he  glanced  round  now  and  then,  to  see  if  the  lesson  were 


12  MARGAKET 

taking  effect,  his  state  of  mind  was  not  improved  by  discovering 
that  nobody  seemed  to  be  caring  in  tiie  least  how  he  and  Augusta 
were  amusing  themselves. 

Lotty,  Milly,  Carry,  and  Flo.,  were  all  in  high  glee,  and  Mar- 
garet the  merriest  among  them ;  but  there  was  a  glow  on  her 
cheek,  and  a  light  in  her  eyes,  which  made  Harold  foncy  that, 
without  knowing  it,  she  was  happy  in  his  evident  attentions. 

jS'otwitlistanding,  she  did  not  seem  the  least  affected  by  his 
flirtation  with  Augusta. 

lie  overheard  her  telling  them  about  his  horse,  and  was  sen- 
sible of  such  a  pleasurable  emotion  thereat,  that  he  did  not  heed 
Augusta  in  the  very  middle  of  a  sentimental  harangue,  and  her 
evident  discomposure  became  apparent  to  Carry  and  Flo.,  much 
to  the  gratification  of  tliose  two  worthy  young  ladies. 

As  he  went  away,  Margaret  raised  her  fawn's  eyes  and  said, 
in  a  low,  shy  voice,  — 

"  Will  you  ride  that  horse  when  you  pass  us  again?" 

"  With  great  pleasure,"  he  answered,  in  nearly  as  low  a  voice  ; 
but  his  heart  bounded,  and  he  was  glad  to  rush  out  into  the 
street,  and  then  away  into  tlie  fields,  under  the  broad  moonlight, 
to  give  some  scope  to  his  joy. 

"  To  think,  after  having  passed  unscathed  through  all  the 
courts  of  Europe,  that  1  sliould  at  last  be  caught  by  a  simple 
scliool-girl.  Siie  is  so  fresh,  so  shy,  so  natural !  wluit  soft  loving 
glances  she  gives  her  father  and  mother !  she  must  be  mine  !  I 
am  too  impatient  to  Avait  longer.  Besides,  if  I  do  not  provide 
myself  with  a  decisive  impediiuent,  in  the  shape  of  a  wife, 
Augusta  CUirc  will  marry  me  by  force.  Nevertheless,  if  I  speak 
to  Margaret,  I  know  1  shall  undo  the  work  of  the  last  six  weeks  ; 
her  sliy  nature  will  prompt  her  to  reject  me  at  once.  I  will  call 
on  Sir  Thomas  to-morrow,  and  state  all  my  wishes  and  inliu- 
tions ;  and  I  will  ask  his  consent  to  visit  them  constantly,  with 
the  avowed  intention  of  making  myself  acceptable  to  his  sweet 
daughter.  I  knew  I  was  not  mistaken  the  first  time  J  saw  her 
walking  ;  such  a  lovely  figure,  such  a  perlcct  walker,  so  light 
and  elegant,  yet  so  firm  and  dignified  !  I  admired  the  walk  for 
a  whol(!  week  before  I  saw  the  faee,  and  when  she  bc-conu'S 
frank  and  oj)en  with  me,  as  she  is  with  hur  father  and  mother, 
and  when  1  am  permitted  to  excite  and  join  in  the  happy  glad- 
ness of  her  spirit,  how  like  a  sunbeam  she  will  prove  !  Ah  ! 
how  she  will  brighten  up  our  dull,  stately  home,  where  my 
mother  rules  sit  ])resent,  with  I'nidcnce  and  Propriety,  as  I  call 
my  two  sisters.     And  my  mother,  she  must  be  pleased  with  her  ! 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  13 

for  who  could  resist  sweet  Margaret  ?  while  Pru.  and  Pro.  will 
learn  to  look  upon  her  as  a  stray  star,  wanderiag  there  solely  to 
enliven  and  shine  upon  them.  I  believe  the  dulness  of  home  has 
hitherto  alarmed  me  with  regard  to  matrimony,  devoutly  as  my 
mother  has  wished  for  such  an  event.  I  shall  certainly  speak  to 
Sir  Thomas  to-morrow.  Her  eyes  are  like  brown  velvet,  and  all 
her  movements  the  perfection  of  lady-like  grace.  Sweet  Mar- 
gaxet !     I  could  never  be  unhappy  with  you." 


CHAPTER  III. 

Harold  ftilfiUed  his  over-night  intentions.  Now,  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Montagu  were  more 
grieved  than  pleased  at  his  communication,  albeit  that  the 
matter  was  so  flattering  to  their  Margaret. 

"  She  is  so  young,"  pleaded  the  father. 

"  She  is  our  only  one,"  murmured  the  mother. 

"  We  hoped  to  keep  her  always,"  said  Sir  Thomas. 

"  We  cannot  expect  to  live  much  longer,"  sighed  Lady  Mon- 
tagu. 

Harold  was  sensibly  affected.  Notwithstanding  a  very  good 
heart,  he  was  unaccustomed  to  consult  any  other  wishes  than 
his  own  ;  and  he  did  not  see  why,  because  they  were  so  alive  to 
the  merits  of  their  Margaret,  they  should  insist  upon  keeping 
such  a  charming  girl  all  to  themselves. 

"  I  grant  she  is  very  young,"  said  Harold  ;  "  but  I  dare  say 
it  will  be  six  months  and  more  before  she  will  permit  me  to  be 
sufficiently  intimate  to  begin  to  make  love,  much  less  tell  her  so. 
Though  I  have  now  seen  her  every  day  for  six  weeks,  I  have 
never  even  shaken  hands  with  her,  and  she  never  voluntarily 
spoke  to  me  until  last  night." 

"  True,  very  true,"  said  Sir  Thomas  ;  "  our  Margaret  is  very 
shy." 

"  She  is  very  timid,  I  know,  in  some  things,"  said  Lady  Mon- 
tagu. 

"  All  I  wish  to  do  now,  is  to  gain  your  perniission  to  try  and 
win  her  affections.  Knowing  how  my  feeling's  were  warming 
toAvards  her,  I  could  not  visit  at  your  house  without  informing 
you  of  my  hopes  and  intentions,"  said  Harold. 

2 


14  ,  MARGARET 

"Very  honorable,  iudeed,  I  must  say,"  said  Sir  Thomas. 
*'  My  dear  Anne,  Sir  Harold  is  a  man  of  honor." 

"  Indued  he  is,  and  wo  ouirht  to  be  ijratelul,  I  am  sure,"  said 
Lady  Montagu,  looking  just  the  contrary.  "■  lie  comes  of  a  very 
good  family,  Sir  Tliomas,  I  know,  for  your  mother  I  remember 
very  well,  Sir  Harold ;  she  was  lady-in-Avaiting  to  good  Queen 
Charlotte,  and  amid  all  the  state  and  reserve  of  that  court,  she 
ever  bore  the  palm  uf  the  most  dignitied  and  discreet." 

Harold  bowed  at  this  praise  of  his  mother,  while  he  mentally 
said,  "  No  wonder  my  mother  is  so  stilT  aud  stately,  and  Leigh 
Court  so  dull  aud  precise.  If  I  succeed  in  gaining  her  alfections, 
I  do  not  see  why  you  should  not  come  and  live  near  us,"  he  con- 
tinued, aloud. 

•■'  Dear,  dear,"  said  Lady  IMontagu,  "you  arc  too  quick,  you 
anticipate  too  much,  Sir  Harold,  ^largaret  may  not,  perhaps, 
like  you,"  continued  she,  brightening  up. 

Harold  smiled  ;  certainly  a  smile  of  self-satisfied  import;  nev- 
ertheless, he  replied,   "  Perhaps  not." 

"  AVell,  Avell,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  "  now  let  lis  drop  the  sub- 
ject, it  makes  me  nervous  and  fretful.  But  you  are  an  honor- 
able young  man.  Sir  Harold,  and  we  ought  to  be  obliged  to  you, 
though  we  do  not  exactly  feel  so." 

"  Then  I  may  visit  the  house,  and  try  to  win  Miss  Montagu's 
heart,  if  I  can?  "  said  Harold. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  I  suppose  we  must  not  stand  in  her 
light ;  we  must  let  her  judge  for  herself,  poor  pet ;  but  I  hope 
you  may  think  better  of  it.  I  truly  hope  you  may  see  another 
i'ace  that  you  like  better  than  our  Margaret's." 

So  Sir  Harold  took  his  leave,  none  the  less  anxious  to  obtain 
the  dear  Margaret  from  the  dilliculty  there  seemed  to  be  about  it. 

"jNIy  dear  Anne,"  said  Sir  Tliomas,  after  their  visitor  had 
departed,  "  I  will  tell  you  what  we  will  do.  AN  e  must  ask  all 
Margaret's  prettiest  school-fellows  here  ;  you  must  find  out  all 
tli(!  Ijelles  of  Bath,  and  on  the  evenings  that  Sir  Harold  is  here, 
■we  will  surround  him  with  such  pretty  faces,  that  he  will  not  see 
our  sunny  Margaret,  the  liglit  of  our  old  age." 

"  A  very  good  idea,  Sir  Thomas,  and  1  will  also  renew  my 
acquaintance  with  Lady  Kathcrine  ;  she  may  not,  perhajjs,  like 
the  eonnection  ;  our  IMnrgaret  maybe  too  simple  and  natural  lor 
such  a  grand  lady,  aud  she  may  forbid  llie  marriage.  1  liavo 
always  heard  that  her  son  was  very  dudlul.  and  she,  I  know, 
carries  <hity.  etiquette,  and  propriety  to  tlie  extreme  verge,  aud 
Las  always  kept  her  childreu  in  full  order." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  15 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Aune,  that  we  are  becoming  two  selfish, 
hypocritical  people  in  oar  old  age  ;  but  if  we  lose  our  Margaret, 
I  tliink  our  business  in  this  world  is  well  nigh  over." 

"  I  shall  feel  as  if  it  were,  I  am  sure,"  said  Lady  Montagu, 
her  tears  falling;  "nevertheless,  we  will  bear  everything,  so 
that  sweet  Meg  is  happy.  We  will  hope  that  she  lovesHier  old 
father  and  mother  too  fondly  to  wish  to  leave  them  SQ  soon.  I 
will  always  ask  that  pretty  Miss  Clare  here  with  her ;  she  seems 
greatly  taken  with  Sir  Harold,  and  is,  in  manners  ^aud  appear- 
ance, much  more  fitted  for  a  great  lady  than  our  Margaret." 

Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Montagu  were  simple-minded,  good, 
kind  people.  They  thought  themselves  very  treacherous  and 
hypocritical,  inviting  all  the  prettiest  girls  in  the  neighborhood 
to  meet  the  wolf  that  had  come  to  steal  their  lamb,  and  yet  it 
never  occurred  to  tliem  that  they  had  a  much  surer  way  of  keep- 
ing their  Margaret  than  the  means  they  now  employed.  They 
had  but  to  say,  or  even  do  no  more  than  imply,  that  they 
hoped,  while  their  little  span  of  life  lasted,  that  she  would  re- 
main with  them,  and  the  Avarm,  sensitive  heart  would  have 
responded  instantly.  All  the  lovers  in  Christendom,  were  they 
handsomer  than  Adonis,  and  more  amiable  and  devoted  than  the 
knights  of  old,  could  not  have  obtained  entrance  to  Margaret's 
heart,  with  her  parents'  Avishes  to  guard  the  door. 

But  they  had  never  allowed  her  to  know  hoAV  necessary  she 
was  to  their  happiness  ;  in  their  unselfish  love,  they  had  ever 
placed  her  little  pleasures  and  Avishes  as  completely  separated 
from  theirs ;  yet,  at  the  same  time,  were  so  anxious  that  she 
should  enjoy  them.  Margaret,  if  she  ever  thought  on  the  sub- 
ject, might  have  imagined  they  considered  her  a  grandchild 
rather  than  a  daughter. 

Once  or  tAvice  circumstances  had  so  occurred  as  to  make  Mar- 
garet think,  "  HoAV  sorry  mamma  must  be  that  I  am  so  young, 
and  that  I  Avas  not  born  about  the  same  time  as  my  other  sis- 
ters." She  Avas  so  simple,  modest,  and  humble,  that  it  never 
entered  her  innocent  mind  she  Avas  the  cynosure  of  any  circle, 
and  Avith  such  natures  it  is  not  difficult  to  belicA^e,  that  Avhen 
once  they  are  aware  of  the  ftict,  once  they  feel  the  value  of  their 
love  to  another,  death  alone  can  extinguish  the  feeling  thus 
aAvakened,  the  grave  only  do  away  Avith  these  first  impressions. 

It  Avas  so  with  Margaret.  By  degrees  she  became  aAvare  that 
she  was  an  object  of  interest  to  another ;  she,  Avho  thought  it  so 
good  of  everybody  to  love  her ;  so  kind  of  her  father  to  let  her 
kneel  by  his  chair,  and  play  Avith  his  Avhite  curls ;  so  good  of 


16  MARGARET 

J 

Ker  mother  to  allow  her  to  fly  over  the  house  on  all  sorts  of 


messages. 


At  lirst,  she  conlided  to  her  school-husband  that  it  would  be 
very  nice  if  Sir  Harold  was  her  brother,  then  he  could  call  her 
Margaret,  without  saying  tiiat  formal  Miss  Moutagu." 

"And  I  suppose  you  would  call  him  Harold  ?  "°said  the  little 
fiery  school-husband. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Margaret ;  "  Harold,  not  Sir  Harold  ; 
it  sounds  very  nice,  does  it  not,  Lotty  ?  " 

"  No,  it  sounds  very  forward  and  Augustaish  of  you,  and  I 
Avon't  allow  you  to  do  it." 

"  O,  no,"  said  Margaret,  "not  for  the  world  —  how  could 
you  think  I  would  do  it  ?  " 

So  thus  it  came  to  pass  that  the  experienced  man  of  the  world 
gained  his  end,  against  the  simple,  unworldly-wise  old  couple ; 
and  thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Margaret  uttered  the  memorable 
speech,  half  hidden  by  the  school-room  door ;  and  also  thus  it 
happened.  Miss  Augusta  Clare  had  a  little  method  in  her  mad- 
ness, wlieu  she  promulgated  the  fact  that  she  intended  to  marry 
Sir  Harold  lierself.  She  had  met  him  quite  as  ollen  as  Mar- 
garet, according  to  old  Sir  Thomas's  base  arrangement,  and  she 
had  talked  to  him  a  great  deal  more. 

For  whereas  Margaret  was  very  shy,  retiring,  and  difficult  of 
access,  Augusta  took  an  ell  for  every  one  of  Sii"  Hax'old's  inches, 
and  made  the  most  of  them. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

So  Margaret  accepted  Sir  Harold,  imd  the  wodding-day  was 
fixed,  slie  all  unknowing  of  the  blank  that  now  fell  uu  lier  aged 
parents'  existence,  while  they,  as  heretofore,  studiously  concealed 
from  her  anything  but  their  warm  interest  in  her  happiness,  and 
seemed  to  take  sticli  a  pride  and  delight  in  her  trousseau,  car- 
riages, horses,  and  bridesmaids,  tliut  Margaret  could  only  say  to 
herself,  "  Tiiey  will  be  so  liap])y  together,  now  they  have  no  wild 
girl  to  trouble  them  ;  and  1  hope  my  Harold  and  I  may  be  like 
them  when  we  grow  old." 

Notliing  could  exceed  the  stately  condescension  with  which 
Lady  Katheriue  Leigh  received  her  intended  daughter-iu-luw  j 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  17 

and  the  pale  Pru.  absolutely  kissed  the  bright  girl  with  fervor, 
while  the  meek,  quiet  Pro.  became  quite  flushed  and  animated 
on  hearing  they  were  to  be  bridesmaids. 

Although  of  an  antique  age  compared  to  Margaret,  being 
some  years  older  even  than  their  brother,  Pru.  and  Pro.  (whose 
real  names  were  Charlotte  and  Georgina,  in  reverential  memory 
of  the  Court,  wherein  Lady  Katherine  shone  so  conspicuously), 
were  still  considered  young  girls  by  their  courtly  mamma. 

They  always  walked  behind  her  like  two  model  maids  of  honor, 
attendant  oa  a  despotic  sovereign  ;  they  courtesied  on  leaving  her 
gracious  presence,  they  asked  permission  to  take  the  air,  and 
even  to  the  color  of  their  dresses  and  ribbons  all  was  deferred 
to  their  mother.  Pru.  had  once  indulged  in  a  little  flight  of 
emancipation,  which  led  to  the  discovery  that  she  had  absolutely 
been  seen  speaking,  upon  several  occasions,  to  the  curate. 

Urged  by  incipient  hn-e,  Pru.  feebly  chirped  forth  that  "  he 
was  a  very  good  young  man."  The  sliade  of  Queen  Charlotte 
rose  before  the  indignant  mother,  but  history  does  not  say  how 
Pru.  was  brought  to  reason.  Doubtless  the  way  was  stringent, 
for  the  cure  was  effectual ;  Pru.  and  Pro.  were  never  seen  to 
speak  voluntarily  after  that  to  any  man  under  eighty  years  of 
■  age._ 

Sir  Harold  was  very  generous.  He  presented  each  bridesmaid 
with  her  dress  complete,  and  a  turquoise  ring ;  but  Lotty  was 
firm  in  her  determination  not  to  be  one  of  these  favored  mortals, 
Avhich  Florence  and  Caroline,  with  more  candor  than  politeness, 
told  her  was  a  very  good  thing,  as  there  would  have  been  an  odd 
bridesmaid  ;   now  the  numbers  were  even. 

"  I  don't  care  how  odd  I  am,"  said  Lotty,  taking  the  matter 
literally. 

Neither  the  policeman  nor  the  postman  having  proposed,  as 
'Florence  and  Caroline  maliciously  liinted,  Augusta  was  able  to 
officiate  as  bridesmaitl.  Tlie  two  former  were  so  far  justified  in 
their  unladylike  remarks,  that  Augusta's  cupidity,  in  the  way  of 
admiration,  made  her  swallow  anything  from  anybody  that  fed 
her  vanity.  She  was  a  beautiful  girl,  very  fair,  with  sunnv 
hair  flowing  in  thick  curls  over  cheeks  quite  rivalling  the  peach 
in  bloom.  A  fine,  tall  figure,  rounded  in  proportion,  with  the 
utmost  grace  ;  and  a  bewitching,  sweet,  taking  manner,  that 
would  beguile  a  weak  man  of  liis  heart  at  first  sight.  Her  eyes 
•were  peculiarly  beautiful,  the  lids  so  white  and  full :  the  eye- 
lashes almost  black,  and  the  orbs  themselves  of  a  clear  blue. 

Sir  Thomas  and  L;uly  Montagu  might  well  have  hoped  that  a 
2* 


18  MARGARET 

being  so  gifted  by  Nature  -would  prove  more  attractive  than 
their  simple,  pretty  Margaret.  But  a  true  man  of  the  world 
will  only  give  his  heart  into  Nature's  keeping,  lie  laughs,  talks, 
sentimentalizes  with  girls  like  Augusta ;  his  heart  he  places 
in  the  keeping  of  a  loving,  simple  nature  like  Margaret's. 

So  the  wedding-day  came,  and  Lotty  agreed  she  would  take 
care  of  Sir  Thomas  while  the  others  were  at  church. 

"  He  and  1  do  not  approve  of  the  marriage,"  said  Lotty  Avith 
dignity  ;  "  though  I  allow  Harold  is  not  a  bad  fellow  ;  he  has 
promised  me  a  son  of  Lucifer's,  and  he  will  be  rising  live  about 
the  time  I  leave  school,  Avhich  will  be  just  the  thing." 

"  Did  one  ever  hear  such  language?"  said  Flo.  to  Carry,  as 
they  arranged  each  other's  dresses. 

Lady  Montagu  would  fain  have  remained  at  home  with  her 
husband  ;  her  heart  felt  ill  at  ease,  and  only  her  utter  forgetful- 
ness  of  self  made  her  attempt  the  exertion.  She  could  not  but 
think  of  the  three  daughters  she  had  already  seen  married  under 
the  happiest  auspices,  and  now  they  were  no  more.  "Was  this 
to  be  the  fate  of  the  youngest,  most  gifted,  most  beloved? 

"  God's  will  be  done  !  "  she  whispered  to  herself  many  times  ; 
and  often  she  had  to  appeal  to  the  same  gracious  help  for  strength 
to  support  this  day,  without  the  loved  object  of  her  unseliish 
afl'ectious  perceiving  on  this,  which  ought  to  be  the  happiest  day 
of  her  life,  the  sorrow  they  were  suffering. 

Poor  .Sir  Thomas  shook  Avith  suppressed  emotion  as  the  gentle, 
fair  girl  knelt  for  his  blessing,  bel'ore  proceeding  to  the  church, 
"while  she  felt  —  as  what  bride  has  not?  —  that  it  Avas  agouy  to 
leave  her  childhood's  home  for  an  untried  affection,  a  new 
existence. 

"  If  papa  Avould  but  say,  '  Stay,  my  child,'  1  could  not,  would 
not  leave  him,"  said  she  to  herself. 

But  the  good  old  man  fondly  kissed  her,  and  exerting  himself 
for  her  sake,  that  she  might  not  see  his  grief  and  sorrow,  he 
feebly  made  an  attempt  at  cheerfulness,  saying,  — 

"  My  darling  will  be  Lady  Leigh  when  I  again  see  her." 

Lotty,  with  tearful  eyes,  did  her  best  to  (^iiei-r  his  spirits,  as 
the  lair  vision,  white  as  marble,  passed  i'rom  ids  siglit. 

"  Sir  Harold  loves  her  very  much,  no  doubt,"  said  she,  "  though 
no  one  can  hne  her  as  Ave  do,  can  tliey,  Sir  Thomas?" 

''  No  !   no  !  not  as  her  fond  old  parents  do." 

"  And  I,  Sir  Thomas,  too  !  "  said  Lotty,  Avith  a  little  acrimony  ; 
"  but  thougli  Sir  Harold  is  a  very  good  fellow,  1  wish  Ave  liad 
not  I'-l  liei-  marry  so  soon,  because  I  know  of  a  much  better 
match  for  her." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  19 

"  My  dear  what  are  you  saying?  "  said  the  old  man,  who  wag 
beginning  to  think  Lotty's  mode  of  consohxtion  none  of  the  best. 

"  I  think  if  Margaret  had  waited  until  Basil  Erie  had  come 
home,  he  would  have  asked  her  to  marry  him.  I  don't  know 
much  about  love-matters,  but  I  am  almost  sure,  when  Ave  were 
all  staying  with  you  last  holidays,  Basil  was  falling  into  down- 
right love  with  Margaret ;  and  you  know  what  Basil  is,  such  a 
fellow  ! " 

"  My  dear  boy  !  "  said  Sir  Thomas,  "  I  believe,  indeed,  there 
are  few  like  him." 

The  old  man,  between  gi'ief,  the  tears  that  blinded  his  eyes, 
and  Lotty's  peculiar  style  of  conversation,  was  becoming  oblivious 
of  the  sex  of  his  companion. 

Lotty  flushed  up,  and  then  continued  in  a  softer  voice,  — 

"  Basil  is  just  as  good  a  man  as  Millicent  is  a  woman,  they 
are  a  worthy  brother  and  sister  ;  and  though  I  am  very  young, 
Sir  Thomas,  not  more  than  fifteen,  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of 
life,  and  of  men,  and  I  never  saw  any  one  like  Basil.  I  don't 
like  men  in  general,  excepting  the  Beauvilliers  ;    I  think  them 

stupid,  egotistical  fcl creatures  I  mean  ;  but  if  Margaret  had 

waited  to  marry  Basil,  then  she  would   have  lived  all  her   life 
close  to  you,  and  that  Avould  have  been  much  better." 

"  Very,  very  true  ;  but  I  never  heard  that  Basil  wanted  our 
Margaret,"  said  poor  Sir  Thomas. 

"  Well,  he  never  did  say  so,  more's  the  pity ;  he  might  have 
guessed  before  he  Aveut  abroad  that  every  man  who  ever  saw 
Margaret  would  Avant  to  marry  her.     I  am  sure  I  should." 

"  And  Avhy  did  you  not  say  so,  my  dear?  for  if  you  had,  then 
perhaps  you  Avould  not  have  minded  living  Avith  us." 

"  No  !  I  should  have  liked  it  of  all  things  :  but  I  should  not 
have  been  good  enough  for  Margaret ;  only  Basil  is." 

"  But  Avhen  did  he  propose,  my  dear?" 

"  He  never  did.  Sir  Thomas,  and  that's  the  worst  of  it,  and  I 
knoAV  he  Avill  be  dreadfully  unhappy  when  he  hears  Margaret  is 
married.  Perhaps  he  Avill  kill  himself,  though  I  think  he  is  too 
sensible  for  that.  But  I  Avill  tell  you  how  I  knoAV.  I  love  Mar- 
garet better  than  any  other  Avoman  in  the  world,  I  don't  mind 
telling  you.  Sir  Thomas." 

"  She  deserves  it,  my  dear  boy !  she  deserA'es  every  one's 
love." 

Lotty  Avinced  again,  and  again  modulated  her  voice  to  a  lady- 
like pitch. 

"  So,  loving  Margaret  as  I   did,  I   soon  saAv  Avho  loved  her 


20  MARGARET 

besides  ;  and  I  felt  that  my  love  was  just  a  grain  of  sand  to  what 
Basil  could  give,  and  I  dare  say  lie  would  have  told  ^largaret, 
but  then  she  was  a  school-girl.  Besides,  you  know  what  a  bad 
character  his  father  bears,  and  what  a  wretch  Lady  Erlscourt 
is,  so  I  suppose  he  thought  it  wrong  to  take  Margaret  to  such  a 
house  as  that." 

"  But  they  could  have  lived  with  us,  my  dear,  and  Basil  is 
such  a  good  young  man,"  sighed  Sir  Thomas. 

"  '  Good'  does  not  express  what  he  is,"  returned  Lolty  ;  "  but 
it  is  too  late  now  ;  here  they  are  all  coming  back  from  church." 

''  Well,  God's  will  be  done  !  I  hope  we  have  acted  for  the 
best,"  said  Sir  Thomas. 

"  We  might  have  done  better,  I  think,"  replied  the  sorry  little 
comforter. 

'•  What  will  Anne  say !  she  is  so  fond  of  those  two,  Basil  and 
Millicent  ;  I  doubt  we  have  been  too  hasty,  Margaret  was  too 
young,  yes,  too  youug  to  marry.  I  thought  that,  Anne.  Anne, 
we  were  too  hasty.  Dear  me,  dear  me  !  "  And  the  poor  old 
man  sobbed  aloud. 

"■  For  goodness'  sake,  don't  do  that !  "  exclaimed  the  alarmed 
Lotty,  "  tliey  Avill  think  I  have  been  beating  you.  And  here  is 
Lady  Montagu  being  carried  in  as  if  she  had  fainted." 

Startle(l  out  of  his  grief,  Sir  Thomas  hurried  out  to  meet  the 
poor  mother,  and  being  both  utterly  unable  to  coutrol  their  feel- 
ings longer,  they  fell  sobbing  into  each  others'  arms. 

Alarmed  at  this  unwonted  display,  Margaret  flew  to  them  from 
her  husband's  arm. 

"  O  mauima  !  papa  !  O  mamma  !  papa  !  "  was  all  she  could 
say  at  lirst. 

''  I  will  not  leave  you.  I  cannot  go.  My  own  dear  father 
and  mother,  Itid  your  Margaret  stay  ever  witii  you." 

"  O,  hush,  dear  Meg,"  whispered  Milly ;  "  remember  the 
vows  you  have  just  pronounced." 

"  But  papa !  inauiuia  !  my  kinil  loving  j)arents.  Can  tliis 
grief  be  for  me?  is  it  my  h)ss  they  mouiii  thus?  O  Milly,  I 
must  not,  cannot  leave  tlieni." 

"  Hcnicinlicr,  dearest,  tlicv  may  be  overcome  with  the  ri'col- 
lectiou  of  your  sisters.  See,  Harold  wonders  at  you.  Let  ihiiu 
grieve  a  little.  Leave  them  to  themselves,  for  none  know  what 
their  loving  hearts  liave  sufl'ered." 

Lottv  and  Millicent  led  the  aHlicled  parents  into  another  room, 
while  Harold  drew  Miirgaret  aside,  and  wliispeied  fond,  endear- 
ing words  to  her,  saying  that  now  she  was  his,  her  word  should 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  21 

be  his  law ;  and  if  she  -wished  to  stay  with  her  parents,  she 
should  ;  she  had  only  to  name  her  wishes  and  he  would  consent. 

Margaret  raised  the  seldom-seen  eyes  to  his  face.  In  the  one 
short  glance  he  read  the  world  of  love  she  could  bestow.  The 
sensitive  maiden  heart  opened  to  let  the  wife's  devotion  enter, 
and  Harold  knew  that  the  grave  alone  could  extinguish  the  love 
expressed  in  that  glance.  Proud  and  elated,  he  continued,  as  he 
folded  her  in  his  arms,  "  God  forbid,  my  sweet  wife,  that  my 
first  act  as  a  husband  should  be  to  take  you  from  your  parents  : 
go,  settle  with  them  what  you  like ;  what  pleases  you  will  do 
the  same  by  me." 

But  the  constant  habits  of  forbeai-ance  which  they  practised, 
shortly  came  to  the  aid  of  the  fond  father  and  mother. 

Margaret  was  permitted  to  think  that  a  tide  of  old  recollec- 
tions had  overcome  them,  though  she  could  not  avoid  seeing  the 
extent  to  Avhich  they  mourned  for  her. 

It  was  agreed,  that  instead  of  going  abroad,  the  bride  and 
bridegi'oom  should  return  in  a  short  time  to  the  old  hall  of  her 
father,  "  Montagu  House,"  and  in  looking  forward  to  this 
speedy  reunion,  they  were  enabled  to  bid  their  darling  "  God 
speed : "  while  she  left  them  in  some  degree  comforted,  more 
than  all  recollecting  the  kind  and  loving  way  in  which  her  Harold 
had  come  forward,  when  he  might  have  resented  her  first  con- 
jugal act.  In  her  heart  of  hearts  she  promised  him  her  life's 
devotions.  "We  must  trace  her  through  it,  and  in  the  mean  time 
wonder  if,  like  Lotty,  we  shall  say  at  the  close  of  it,  — 

"  Margaret  was  very  foolish  not  to  wait  for  Basil." 


CHAPTER    V. 

I  THTNTK  we  ought  to  leam  who  "  Basil "  and  "  Millicent "  are. 

On  the  borders  of  the  New  Forest  in  Hampshu-e  rose  the 
stately  towers  of  Lord  Erlscourt's  castle. 

The  family  were  neither  old  nor  particularly  wealthy,  so  that 
the  present  lord  did  not  disdain  the  appointment  of  Ranger  of 
the  Forest.  He  had  married,  early  in  life,  a  very  beautiful  and 
amiable  woman  of  high  rank  and  some  wealth.  During  her  life- 
time the  family  were  much  loved  and  respected,  and  the  embar- 
rassed estates  (left  so  by  the  present  lord's  predecessor) ,  under 


22  MARGARET 

her  juflicious  sway  were  becoming  free  anfl  unonenmbcred. 
Unfortunatelv  for  lior  luisbaiul  and  the  estates,  still  more  for 
her  children,  she  died  from  the  effects  of  a  low,  linirering  fever, 
that  often  hangs  about  a  densely  wooded  country.  Either  soured 
by  her  loss,  or  losing  that  restraint  which  her  fine  and  noble 
cliaracter  intuitively  put  upon  one  very  much  the  reverse,  Lord 
Erlscourt  became  a  very  different  man. 

He  grew  careless  and  indifferent  about  his  habits  and  appear- 
ance. He  became  mixed  up  with  a  number  of  vcrv  <|ucsti()nable 
characters,  and  report  was  rife  M'ith  tales  of  his  midnigiit  doings  ; 
when,  instead  of  putting  down  the  hiAvless  poaching  and  glaring 
thefts  of  wood,  he  was  described  as  head  poacher  and  principal 
thief. 

He  consummated  the  ruin  of  his  character  as  a  gentleman  and 
an  honorable  man,  by  marrying  a  handsome  but  vidgar  girl, 
niece  to  one  of  his  imder  officers,  whose  former  life  could  by  no 
means  bear  an  inspection. 

Elated  by  her  unexpected  rise  in  life,  the  new  Lady  Erlscourt 
added,  to  other  disagreeable  qualities,  so  much  vanity  and  over- 
weening pride,  as  to  disgust  even  those  of  her  own  grade. 
With  the  low  A-ulgarity  of  a  small  mind,  and  the  vindictiveness 
of  a  very  base  one,  she  poured  upon  the  heads  of  her  unfortunate 
step-children  so  much  mean  and  petty  persecution,  that  Basil, 
the  boy,  ran  a'way. 

He  was  then  about  ten  years  old,  and  his  little  heart  beat  and 
swelled  with  indignation  at  the  treatment  both  he  and  his  gentle 
sister  had  borne  ;  the  l)itter  wrong  caused  him  to  reason  and 
think  with  premature  wisdom. 

"  I  am  very  strong  for  my  age,"  said  the  little  fellow  to  him- 
self, "  and  I  know  the  wood  paths  in  every  direction.  1  shall 
go  to-night  as  far  as  the  hollow  fiak,  and  in  the  morning  1  will 
strike  up  to  the  left,  and  if  1  run  as  well  as  walk,  1  shall  be  at 
Montagu  House  by  ten  o'clock.  I  will  tell  Sir  Thoniiis  what 
we  have  to  endure.  I  shall  ask  him  to  send  for  INlilly.  1  shall 
refuse  ever  to  return  to  my  father's  house  unless  she  is  released  ; 
then,  if  they  will  not  let  lier  come,  I  shall  ask  Sir  Thomas  to 
take  me  before  a  magistrate,  and  I  will  swear,  swear  sok-nmly 
by  that  great  Gnd  who  has  made  our  own  mother  an  angel  in 
heaven,  that  we  arc  starved,  be.aten,  .nu!  ill  treated,  and  Sir 
Thduias  must  write  to  griin(li)M[)a." 

Thus  soliloquizing,  the  little  fellow  ran  with  unabated  energy 
and  spee<l  towanls  his  intended  rosting-plaee.  He  felt  no  fi'iir  at 
passing   the    long  night   in   the   dark  Avoods.     He   remembered 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  23 

notliing  but  his  little  sister's  cries  of  agony  at  her  step-mother's 
harsh  treatment,  and  when  he  reached  the  old  oak  tree,  he  knelt 
upon  the  rustling  bed  of  leaves  at  the  foot,  and  prayed  the  Lord 
God  of  heaven  to  assist  him  in  his  designs,  and  whispered  to 
himself,  as  he  climbed  up  into  his  resting-place,  "  My  dear  angel 
mother  will  watch  me  while  I  sleep." 

And  he  slept  the  sound  sleep  of  the  innocent ;  nevertheless  the 
important  step  he  was  about  to  take  seemed  to  move  him  in  his 
sleep,  for  he  awoke  at  the  first  faint  streak  of  light  that  came 
stealing  through  the  trees.  Hastily  descending  (for  he  seemed 
to  know  intuitively  that  Lady  Ei'lscourt  would  never  let  him 
escape,  and  that  the  knowledge  of  his  flight  would  only  make  her 
the  more  determined  to  get  him  again  into  her  power) ,  he  lost 
no  time  in  pursuing  his  way.  Every  nerve  braced  by  the  fear 
of  being  captured,  every  instinct  startled  by  the  danger  into 
forethought  and  judgment,  with  very  few  mistakes,  the  little  fel- 
low at  last  saw  Montagu  House  before  him. 

Faint  and  exhausted,  he  made  one  last  effort,  and  as  he  did 
so,  he  heard  in  the  woods  he  had  just  left,  the  cracking  of  whips 
and  shouting  of  men,  which  thrilled  him  with  the  knowledge 
that  the  pursuers  Avere  on  his  track. 

The  large  window  of  the  breakfast-room  at  Montagu  House 
was  wide  open,  and  as  Basil  approached,  he  saw  it  was  full  of 
people. 

"  I  am  unable  to  say  a  word,  I  am  so  ill  and  faint,  and 
those  people  will  be  here  ere  I  can  tell  all,  and  I  shall  be  taken 
back.  O  !  mother,  mother,  Avhy  did  you  die  and  leave  your 
poor  children  !  " 

At  this  moment  he  saw,  not  ten  yards  from  him,  a  little  girl, 
who  was  gazing  at  him  with  unbounded  amazement.  Basil 
sprang  forward,  and  grasped  her  dress. 

"  Do  you  hear  those  people  in  the  wood?"  he  gasped  breath- 
lessly.    "  And  that  noise?  they  are  looking  for  me." 

"  Why  do  you  run  from  them?  "  she  answered. 

"Because  they  beat  and  ill-used  me,  and  I  have  run  this 
morning  many  miles  to  tell  Sir  Thomas  Montagu ;  but  I  am 
so  tired  and  faint  —  they  will  be  here  before  I  can  do  so  —  will 
you  hide  me  until  they  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  come  with  me." 

They  ran  together  down  a  gravel  walk  which  led  to  a  con- 
servatory, from  thence  a  narrow  staircase  wound  up  to  the 
highest  story  of  the  old-fashioned  Elizabethan  house. 

Holding  his  hand  fast,  she  darted  into  a  large  sort  of  empty 
lumber-room,  and  bidding  him  lock  himself  in,  said,  — 


24  MARGARET 

"  I  shall  get  you  some  milk." 

"  She  ran  down  stairs  again,  locking  the  last  door  as  "well  as 
she  could,  and  entered  the  large  open  window  just  as  the  caval- 
cade of  horsemen  appeared  upon  the  lawn. 

There  was  no  mistaking  ISir  Thomas  Montagu's  utter  i^no- 
rance  as  to  any  fugitive  having  heen  seen  near  his  house  ;  be- 
sides, it  was  ahuost  incredible  that  a  boy  of  such  tender  a"-c 
could  have  travelled  so  far  without  food  or  help.  So  that  the 
party  prepared  to  depart  just  as  the  little  girl  had  collected  her 
portion  of  breakfast,  and  was  asking  permission  to  eat  it  out  of 
doors.  This  being  granted,  she  but  Availed  to  see  them  fairly 
away,  ere  she  tripped  up  first  with  a  cup  of  milk. 

Her  prisoner  had  not  locked  the  door,  he  was  lying  in  a  deep, 
exhausted  faint  on  the  floor. 

"  Mamma  !  mamma  !  "  said  the  little  fairy  thing,  as  she  flew 
down  the  house  stairs  ;  "  come  with  me,  I  want  you." 

Her  mother  could  not  resist  the  earnest  appeal. 

"  Don't  tell  papa  yet,  pray  don't.  I  promised  I  Avould  not,  it 
is  such  a  secret !  Dear  mamma  !  you  must  wait  until  he  is  well, 
that  he  may  tell  you  everything  himself." 

In  much  amazement  Lady  Montagu  listened  to  the  talk  of  her 
little  girl,  and  fairly  cried  out  when  she  saw  the  beautiful,  pale 
face  of  an  apparently  dead  boy.  Comprehending  in  a  moment 
•what  her  little  girl  only  half  understood,  she  lifted  up  the  worn- 
out  frame,  and  carrying  it  tenderly  into  her  own  room,  she  laid 
it  on  a  bed.  Then  the  fleet-footed  little  maiden  ran  hither  and 
thither,  according  to  her  mother's  directions,  for  restoratives, 
her  excitement  rendered  double  by  the  fact  tluit  it  was  her 
secret  and  hers  only.  She  was  standing  eagerly  watching  her 
mother's  face  as  she  bathed  the  broad,  fair  brow,  and  poured 
the  tiny  restorative  drops  between  the  colorless  lips. 

A  sigh,  a  shiver  through  the  limbs.  The  large,  beautiful 
eyes  oj)ened  for  a  moment,  and  gazed  on  the  kind  face  bending 
over  him. 

"  ^lother,"  he  faintly  said  and  smiled,  and  seemed  to  die 
away  again. 

But  Lady  Montagu  redoubled  her  efforts,  and  again  conscious- 
ness seemed  to  be  restored.  The  eyes  opened  and  looked  in- 
f|uiringly,  first  on  her,  and  then  fell  on  the  little  girl  ;  a  color 
fluslicd  his  face,  he  tried  to  stretch  out  his  hand,  itwt  was  too 
weak.  IJiit  the  lips  opened,  and  with  a  smile  of  ineffable  sweet- 
ness he  half  whispered,  '"  Basil  thanks  you."  And  this  was  the 
first  meeting  of  Margaret  and  Basil. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  25 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  as  soon  as  Basil  could  tell  his  tale, 
Sir  Thomas  was  quite  ready  to  listen  to  it ;  and  acted  with  so 
much  judgment  and  discretion  in  the  matter,  that  no  alternative 
remained  to  the  weak  and  reprehensible  father  but  to  yield  up 
his  children  to  their  grandfather's  care  and  protection.  The  con- 
duct of  Lady  Erlscourt  was  so  well  known  and  notorious,  that 
they  were  glad  to  hush  the  matter  up  any  how. 

And  thus  it  fell  out  that  the  two  poor,  ill-used  children  came 
to  have  an  honored  and  happy  home,  and  received  the  education 
their  rare  and  fine  qualities  deserved.  And  fortunately  this  time 
continued  uatil  Basil  was  nineteen,  just  two  years  before  Mar- 
garet's marriage. 

At  that  time  their  grandfather  died,  and  then  came  a  check- 
ered and  trying  season,  which  served  to  prove  that  the  spirit 
of  the  mother  had  fallen  on  the  children,  and  that  they  were 
meant  to  bear  the  bui'dens  of  life  with  the  lofty,  firm  faith  of 
Christians. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

LOTTT,  or  rather  Charlotte  Beauvilliers,  must  not  be  passed 
cursorily  over,  as  if  a  thing  as  small  in  importance  as  she  was 
in  person.  Margaret's  little  school-husband  was  born  of  a  pecu- 
liar people,  and  in  a  peculiar  manner,  as  befits  a  heroine. 

The  Beauvilliers  were  a  race  of  strong,  sturdy  Britons  ;  true 
hearts  of  oak  dwelt  in  their  fine,  athletic  frames  ;  and  as  is  often 
the  case,  vmder  gigantic  proportions  simple  and  kind  hearts  are 
to  be  found,  so  it  was  with  them.  Fearless,  guileless,  frank, 
and  ingenuous,  no  one  ever  heard  that  a  Beauvilliers  did  an 
action  of  which  he  was  ashamed.  Perhaps  no  great  intellect 
was  to  be  found  among  them,  but  warm-hearted,  generous 
deeds  followed  their  steps.  And  for  no  virtue  were  they  more 
conspicuous  than  for  family  love.  Brothers  dwelt  side  by  side, 
and  seemed  to  love  each  other  more,  the  closer  they  lived  to- 
gether. Large  families  were  brought  up  in  love  and  amity ; 
none  ever  heard  a  Beauvilliers  use  a  harsh  word  or  say  an 
unkind  thing.  A  jovial,  hilarious,  vigorous  race,  they  bound 
themselves  to  the  country  and  soil,  eschewing  towns  and  profes- 
sions, as  something  of  another  sphere  than  theirs. 

Those  who  were  rich  enough,  hunted,  shot,  and  fished ;  those 
3 


26  MARGARET 

who  were  not,  farmed,  dug,  delved,  and  planted ;  none  "were  ab- 
solutely poor,  and  none  were  more  than  commonly  rich.  Tliey 
had  uo  exjjonsive  Avants,  but  "vvere  generally  remarkable  for  their 
simple  tastes. 

One  other  peculiarity  existed  in  the  race  of  Beauvilliers,  the 
preponderance  of  males  in  the  family  ;  a  girl  was  now  and  then 
born,  but  they  were  so  scarce,  that  they  we)"e  considered  as  sorts 
of  natural  curiosities,  and  treated  accordingly. 

About  fifty  years  before  our  story  commences,  one  Beauvil- 
liers, larger,  taller,  stronger  than  the  rest,  with  an  extra  portion 
of  bonhommie  and  kiuduci^s,  had  been  made,  through  these  gilts, 
a  sort  of  head  of  the  family  ;  he  rejoiced  in  six  sons.  ^Vhcu  he 
died,  the  eldest  of  these  was  worthily  appointed  to  fill  his  place, 
being  the  true  scion  of  his  fine,  old,  jovial  father  ;  and  he  had 
six  sons,  all  true  Bcauvillians.  The  youngest  of  these,  at  the 
age  of  eight  years,  was  found  thrashing  a  boy  twice  his  size,  for 
ill-treating  a  little  girl ;  and  he  was  brought  into  the  parlor, 
flushed  Avith  excitement,  and  covered  with  blood  and  glory. 

"  Really,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  think  it  is  full  time  Norman 
went  to  school." 

"  He  is  our  youngest,  Belle,"  said  the  father.  "  Let  us  keep 
him  with  us  a  little  longer,  to  Avarm  our  old  hearts  ;  Ave  might 
get  rusty  and  cold,  Avifc,  with  no  boys  to  trouble  us." 

"  I  have  some  idea  he  Avill  not  be  the  youngest  long,"  said 
Mrs.  Beauvilliers,  Avith  a  rising  flush  on  her  cheeks. 

"  AVhat  noAv,  Belle!  more  boys  coming?"  exclaimed  the 
jovial  father.  "  That's  cajjital  I  1  never  heard  better  news  in 
my  life  ;  Avhat  Avill  Ned,  AVill,  and  Charlie  say?  Scacu  boys! 
Avhy,  I  shall  outdo  my  father.  I  always  tliought  there  never 
was  a  Avoman  in  this  Avorld  like  you.  Belle,  and  I  think  so  to 
this  minute.  Odds  me  !  but  I  must  Avrite  the  news  ofl',  and 
invite  theni  all  to  the  christening." 

"No,  no,  my  dear  husband,  have  compassion  on  me  ;  remem- 
ber, 'there  is  many  a  slip  between  the  cup  and  tlie  lip,'  and 
don't  set  a  christi-nin^-  dinner  ready  till  v<>u  have  a  child  to 
christen.  Pray  think  how  long  it  is  since  such  an  event  occurred 
here,  and  that  I  am  very  nearly  as  much  surprised  as  you  are." 

]\Irs.  Beauvilliers  Avas  a  clever,  talented  Avonnui  ;  she  had  just 
the  sort  of  calm,  excellent  good  sense,  Avhich  it  Avas  desirable  to 
graft  on  the  stock  of  the  kind-hearted,  though  somewhat  heed- 
less, Bcauvillians.  Tiiroughout  the  whole  clan  she  reigned  pre- 
eminent in  Avoilh  and  talents,  and  received  a  sort  of  feudal 
adoration  from  tJie  simple-hearted  race. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  27 

Ml'.  Beauvilliers  could  not  forbear  letting  out  the  secret  of 
his  expected  blessing,  to  all  his  brothers,  each  in  strict  confi- 
dence ;  and,  therefore,  they  were  all  prepared  with  rounds  of 
congratulations  and  hearty  good  wishes  on  the  happy  advent. 

But  all  the  five  uncles,  all  the  six  little  expectant  bi'Others,  all 
the  cousins,  nephews,  kinsmen  of  every  degree,  were  thrown 
into  a  state  of  profound  amazement. 

The  expected  seventh  boy  proved  a  little,  small  girl ! 

As  soon  as  they  had  recovered  from  the  astounding  fact, 
a  reirular  commotion  ensued  among  the  clan  of  Beauvilliers. 
No  two  remained  long  in  the  same  place  ;  they  hunted  each 
other  up  far  and  near,  merely  to  shake  hands,  and  say,  "  We 
have  got  a  girl !  " 

The  fine  old  family  mansion  of  Beau-court,  where  the  won- 
derful event  occurred,  was  besieged  with  every  Beauvilliers  that 
had  ever  been  heard  of:  only  to  see  the  happy  father,  shake 
hands,  and  mutually  say,  "  We  have  got  a  girl !  " 

At  the  christening  (the  like  of  which  never  had  been  seen 
before),  the  girl  was  handed  round,  as  Newman  Noggs  hath  it, 
"as  if  it  were  something  to  eat."  Perhaps  a  pervading  feeUng 
of  disappointment  might  have  gone  tlu'ough  the  company,  on 
perceiving  that  the  baby  girl  was  not  at  all  unlike  what  some  of 
the  baby  boys  had  been.  "  But  smaller,  O,  yes  !  decidedly 
smaller,"  as  some  said,  with  confident  satisfaction.  Upon  the 
whole,  the  affair  went  oil  admirably.  When  the  girl  was  handed 
from  one  to  another,  it  gazed  from  face  to  face  with  wise  little 
eyes,  which  made  everybody  declare  that  the  girl  was  the  most 
sensible  child  that  had  ever  been  born. 

When  the  holy  water  was  dashed  in  its  face,  rather  violently 
(as  it  was  then  beginning  to  be  thought  the  proper  thing  to  do), 
the  girl  neither  started  nor  winced,  but  opened  her  eyes,  and 
fixed  them  with  a  sort  of  questioning  wonder  on  the  clergyman. 
Whereupon  everybody  thought,  ''The  girl  is  a  true  Beauvilliers, 
and  does  not  know  what  fear  is." 

The  amount  of  presents  which  it  was  esteemed  necessary 
to  bestow  upon  the  girl,  made  her  a  little  heiress  on  the 
spot. 

She  might  have  set  up  a  shop  of  corals  and  bells  only ;  she 
might  have  turned  silversmith  and  dealt  in  silver  mugs,  tiny 
knives  and  forks,  in  red  morocco  and  every  other  sort  of  case  ; 
she  might  have  opened  an  account  with  her  bankers,  and  put 
out  her  money  at  interest ;  she  might  have  been  smothered  be- 
neath the  weight  of  gold  chains  and  coral  necklaces. 


28  MARGARET 

As  for  her  nnrse,  she  was  looked  upon  as  a  pemliar  person 
of  the  angel  species,  and  came  in  for  her  share  of  presents,  until 
she  bent  under  the  accumulation  of  gowns,  shawls,  and  new 
guineas. 


CHAPTER    YII. 

It  became  a  sort  of  custom  among  the  nearer  relatives 
to  make  periodical  journeys  to  Beau-court,  to  see  how  the  girl 
was  getting  on  ;  and  as  no  one  ever  came  empty-handed,  her 
possessions  were  becoming  vast. 

As  she  grew  older,  the  sort  of  notice  and  homage  she  received 
might  have  proved  very  injurious  ;  but  she  had  one  Beauvillian 
peculiarity,  an  adoration  of  her  mother. 

Her  word  was  law,  her  look  a  command  ;  and  being  so 
talented  and  clever,  the  little  girl  reaped  all  the  benefit  of  such 
an  affection.  Mrs.  Beauvilliers  became  aware  that  her  dauchler 
was  of  a  very  peculiar  character  ;  and  while  she  wondered  how 
such  a  disposition  would  make  its  way  in  the  Avorld,  she  could 
not  but  admire  the  learless,  independent  spirit,  the  extreme 
truthfulness  of  her  words  and  actions  ;  Lotty's  word  might  be 
relied  on  as  certainly  as  the  sun  travels  from  east  to  west. 

Of  course  it  must  l)e  allowed  that  her  education  was  of  a  more 
manly  description  tliau  befits  a  young  lady.  Kach  brother  was 
anxious  to  impart  some  of  his  knowledge  in  the  bold  sports  of 
the  Beauvillians  ;  each  uncle  inquired  diligently  alter  her 
progress  in  riding,  leaping,  and  jumping ;  nevertheless  they 
looked  with  reverence  and  delight  upon  all  Mrs.  Beauvilliers' 
feminine  accomplishments  ;  and  when  Lotty,  escorted  by  her  six 
brothers,  brouirlit  down,  on  her  father's  birthday,  a  silk  jiockel- 
handkerehief  hemmed  by  herself,  the  sensation  it  caused  was 
wonderful. 

"Here,  papa,  is  my  present  ;  I  hemmed  it  myself;  mamma 
says  it  is  pretty  well  done,  and  1  have  only  been  three  weeks  to- 
morrow doing  it." 

"Yes,  papa,  this  is  our  Lotty's  hemmimj."  said  one  brother. 

"Only  throe  weeks  to-morrow  doing  it,"  continued  another. 

"Look  well  at  if,  papa,"  exclaimed  a  third. 

"  Mamma  says  it's  well  done."  said  the  fourth. 

"  No,  only  pretty  well !  "  said  the  matter-of-fact  Lotty. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  29 

Papa  looked  at  it  with  an  admiration  and  delight  that  quite 
satisfied  the  six  brothers  ;  then  the  handkerchief  was  put  away, 
but  upon  the  arrival  of  any  fresh  Beauvilliers,  it  was  brought 
out,  shown,  and  admired,  and  that  Beauvilliers  went  away,  and 
to  the  next  Beauvilliers  he  met  he  told  the  news. 

"  Our  girl  has  hemmed  a  handkerchief  in  three  weeks,  all  but 
a  day,  and  it  is  pretty  well  done." 

Whereupon  that  Beauvilliers  went  to  see  it,  until  the  Avhole 
clan  had  been  favored  with  a  view  thereof. 

Much  to  the  detriment  of  the  beloved  little  girl,  after  a  short 
illness,  Mrs.  Beauvilliers  died,  just  when  her  daughter  was  of 
the  age  when  she  would  most  want  her  cares  and  attention. 

As  she  felt  her  end  drawing  near,  she  called  for  the  little  idol- 
ized being,  now  about  twelve  years  old.  Generally  calm  and 
self-possessed  in  a  remarkable  degree,  Lotty  was  taken  to  her 
mother,  convulsed  with  grief. 

"  Take  me  with  you,  mother !  take  me  with  you ! "  she 
rather  screamed  out  than  said.  But  that  soft,  low  voice  calmed 
her  in  a  moment. 

''  God  sees  fit  to  separate  us,  my  child ;  murmur  not,  but 
rather  strive  to  obey  his  will,  that  we  may  meet  again.  Now, 
my  Lotty,  listen  to  your  mother's  last  words  ;  they  need  be  but 
few  to  you,  thank  God  :   '  Know  your  duty,  and  do  it.'  " 

"  I  will  try,  mamma  ;   I  promise." 

"  Then  that  is  enough  ;  and  now  remember,  papa  suffers 
a  greater  loss  than  you  do.  You  must,  instead  of  grieving,  com- 
fort him.     That  is  your  preseat  duty." 

"  I  will,  mamma." 

"  I  shall  wish  you  to  go  to  school,  Lotty." 

"  O  mamma  !  " 

"  I  wish  it,  Lotty." 

"  I  shall  go,  mamma." 

"Youwdllnot  forget,  my  child,  that  you  are  a  woman  —  a 
lady.  As  the  men  of  the  Beauvilliers'  race  are  strong  and 
manly,  so  must  the  women  show  themselves  gentle  and  femi- 
nine." 

"  I  will  try,  mamma." 

But  the  child's  heart  was  older  in  its  affections,  deeper  and 
stronger  in  its  love,  than  even  her  mother  knew. 

A  cold  dew  covered  her,  the  room  and  the  dying  mother  faded 
from  her  sight,  her  dark  eyes,  remarkable  for  their  brilliant 
beauty,  grew  dull,  and  closed. 

"  I  die  with  mamma,"  she  thought,  happily,  kissing  her  pas- 
3* 


30  MARGARET 

sionately.  The  poor  mother  collected  her  remaining  strength  to 
fold  the  little  senseless  form  in  her  fond  embrace,  and  long  be- 
fore the  broken-hearted  Lotty  recovered  from  her  swoon,  her 
mother's  spirit  was  in  heaven. 


chaptp:r  viii. 

Six  months  after  this  event,  Lotty  and  her  father  were  out  on 
their  daily  ride. 

It  was  the  habit  of  the  little  girl  on  these  occasions  (though 
usually  silent)  to  say,  if  she  saAv  her  father's  head  drooping  with 
sorrowful  recollections,  or  the  tears  gathering  in  his  eyes,  "  Papa, 
do  you  tliink  I  can  manage  that  hedge?"  If  he  said,  "Yes, 
Lotty,"  the  spirited  little  rider,  with  her  faultless  pony,  got  over 
it  somehow. 

And  in  admiring  his  child's  courage  and  skill,  poor  Mr.  Beau- 
villicrs  would  rouse  himself  for  a  little  while. 

A\'lien  tlie  head  again  drooped,  again  the  little  voice  was  heard, 
"  Papa,  in  that  meadow  we  can  have  a  good  gallop,  with  the 
brook  to  jump  at  the  bottom." 

So  papa  aud  the  fearless  little  daughter  proceeded  to  perform 
the  feat,  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  both. 

It  was  thus  that.  Lotty  strove  to  remember  her  mothei''s  last 
words,  and  fulfil  her  present  duty.  But,  on  this  particular  day, 
her  voice  was  low  aud  trembling,  and  she  said,  seeing  her  father 
more  cheerful  than  usual. — 

"  Papa,  I  am  to  go  to  school." 

Poor,  little,  magnanimous  Lotty  !  School  was  to  her,  in  imagi- 
nation, the  fearful  gaol  that  the  thief  sees  always  before  him,  or 
the  distant,  banished  laud  which  the  convict  would  almost  prefer 
death  to  lieliolding. 

''Ah  !   my  Lotty,  arc  you  tired  of  your  fond  father?" 

"  No  !  "  said  Lottv,  with  energy. 

So  they  trotted,  side  by  side,  for  a  mile  or  two,  meeting  now 
and  then  an  admiring  kinsman,  who,  briefly  saluting  the  alllicled 
pair,  woidd  yet  turn  round  and  watch  them  with  loving  eyes,  as 
long  as  they  were  in  sight. 

''Papa,"  said  Lotty,  "  can  T  go  to  a  school  so  near  you  that  I 
may  ride  over  to  see  you  every  day  ?  " 


AND    HEE    BRIDESMAIDS.  81 

"  Ride,  my  pet !  I  never  yet  heard  of  a  school  where  they  al- 
lowed a  girl  to  keep  her  pony,"  returned  her  father. 

Such  an  appalling  fact  sent  the  blood  straight  from  Lotty's  face 
to  her  heart.  That  going  to  school  should  be  a  bar  to  riding, 
and  cause  a  total  separation  between  herself  and  those  she  most 
loved,  well  nigh  overcame  every  restraint  she  had  put  upon  her- 
self, almost  breaking  open  all  those  hidden  sluices  of  grief  that 
she  had  so  carefully  concealed  from  her  father. 

She  was  so  absoi'bed  that  she  did  not  perceive  that  her  father 
was  in  nearly  the  same  state  as  herself. 

Giving  her  little  spirited  pony  a  touch  of  the  whip,  he  reared, 
plunged,  and  kicked,  causing  Mr.  Beauvilliers  such  alarm  lest 
he  should  unseat  his  rider,  that  Lotty  saw  the  fit  of  grief  had 
passed  by. 

So  she  patted  Midge  on  the  neck,  spoke  to  and  coaxed  him ; 
but  the  little  indignant  fellow  was  not  to  be  soothed  in  that  way, 
after  such  unmerited  treatment,  and  gave  his  little  mistress  and 
her  father  ample  trouble  before  they  finished  their  ride. 

"  I  cannot  think  why  he  behaved  in  this  way,"  said  Mr.  Beau- 
villiers, uneasily,  scanning  him  over  with  his  eyes. 

"  Papa,  I  touched  him  with  the  whip." 

"  How  came  you  to  do  that,  my  Lotty  ;  do  you  not  know  he 
will  not  bear  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  papa,  I  did  it  on  purpose,  because  —  because  you 
know  I  must  go  to  school  "  —  and  the  little  voice  laltered. 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it,  my  child.  Well,  we  will  consult  your 
uncles  and  brothers." 

.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  all  the  Beauvilliers  were  consulted, 
and  the  matter  ended  in  its  being  decided  that  Lotty  should  go 
to  a  school  in  Bath. 

All  the  Beauvilliers  that  had  a  right,  from  near  relationship, 
went  to  see  the  school,  the  governess,  Lotty's  future  playmates, 
even  her  private  individual  bed.  All  the  Beauvilliers  that  had 
not  this  privilege  rode  into  Bath  to  look  at  the  house  outside. 

Being  a  very  clever,  sensible  woman.  Miss  Elton  was  rather 
amused  than  annoyed  at  these  proceedings,  and  was  a  prey  to  a 
vast  amount  of  curiosity  to  see  the  object  of  so  much  affection. 

She  imparted  her  feelings  to  Millicent  Erie,  her  eldest  pupil, 
and  besought  her  kind  a-id  to  assist  in  reconciling,  what  she  sup- 
posed would  be,  a  spoiled  darling  to  the  trammels  of  school. 

In  compassion  to  the  aged  and  apparently  heart-broken  father, 
Miss  Elton  had  agreed  that  every  Saturday  Lotty  was  to  go  to 
Beau-court,  see  her  father,  and  return  to  school  on  Monday. 


32  MARGARET 

"But  how  will  she  travel,  sir?  Beau-court  must  be  twenty 
miles  iVoui  here,"  said  Miss  Elton. 

"  She  will  ride,"  replied  3Ir.  Beauvilliers. 

"  Ride  !  "  exclaimed  :\Iiss  Elton.  -  that  child  !  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  Mr.  Beauvilliers,  "  she  is  used  to  it.  I  will 
send  her  pony  and  servant  every  Friday  evening  to  the  inn 
close  by." 

Miss  Elton  half  repented  accepting  the  charge  of  such  a  child, 
especially  when,  hearing  tlie  noise  of  a  grt-at  cavalcade  in  the 
street,  she  looked  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  with 
amazement  beheld  the  equestrians  stop])ing  at  her  door.  Ac- 
companied by  four  brothers  and  tliree  uncles  was  Lotty,  a  little, 
diminutive  girl,  on  a  spirited  black  pony,  that  did  not  seem  a 
whit  the  less  wicked  though  it  had  come  twenty  miles. 

Her  father  had  been  too  much  overcome  to  bring  her  himself; 
so,  to  keep  up  her  spirits,  a  large  concourse  of  ailecticmate  Beau- 
villiers had  assembled  to  escort  her  on  her  way.  Before  reaching 
Bath,  they  had  thought  it  prudent  and  proper  to  sutler  her  to  go 
through  the  town  with  only  a  limited  number,  which  was  fortu- 
nate for  ]Miss  Elton.  She  little  knew  that  about  a  dozen  more 
Beauvilliers  were  sorrowfully  wending  their  way  home,  after 
taking  leave  of  their  girl. 

The  four  brothers  and  the  three  uncles  were  all  kindly  invited 
in. 

"  No,  we  thank  you  heartily.  If  we  do,  we  shall  never  be 
able  to  leave  her,  so  take  her  out  of  our  sight  as  soon  as  may  be." 

Passionately  kissing  Norman,  her  youngest  and  favorite 
brother,  who  had  leaped  down  to  take  her  off  her  pony,  Lotty 
ran  info  the  house  and  disappeared  from  the  sight  of  the  loving 
Beauvilliers. 

When  they  overtook  the  others,  many  were  the  anxious  ques- 
tions, '•  IL^w  she  looked?"  ''What  she  said?"  and  "  Did  she 
bear  the  jjurting  well?"  They  shook  their  heads  mournfully  at 
every  fresh  detail,  and  then  they  all  disputed  Avho  was  to  lead 
Midge  home. 

"  I,  and  I  only."  said  Norman,  "  so  catch  us  if  you  can." 

And  with  an  inspiriting  view-halloo,  avsay  he  went  over  hill 
and  dale,  and  led  the  Beauvilliers  such  a  chase,  that  they  had 
no  time  for  iu)y  dismals,  but  arrived  at  Beau-court  in  such  ele- 
vated spirits,  with  so  nmcli  to  tell  of  the  exciting  gallop,  that 
Mr.  Beauvilliers  was  quite  enlivened  thereby. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  33 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Miss  Elton  had  amused  herself  in  picturing  to  her  mind  what 
her  new  pupil  would  be  like,  and  this  was  the  ideal  she  formed. 

A  ruddy-faced  chubby  girl  of  substantial  form,  and  Beau- 
villian  stature,  sweet-tempere''d,  or  she  would  not  be  so  loved ; 
somewhat  spoiled  or  she  would  not  have  been  spared  to  school.  A 
tritie  hoidenish,  or  the  stress  laid  upon  feminine  associates  would 
not  have  been  so  urgent. 

She  saw  before  her  a  little  fair  girl,  looking  quite  a  child  in 
her  riding  gear.  As  she  removed  her  hat  she  displayed  eyes 
that  amazed  Miss  Elton  Avith  their  size  and  brilliancy,  and  before 
she  could  recover  her  astonishment,  the  little  thing  gathered  up 
her  habit,  and  passing  her  fingers  through  her  thick,  short  curls, 
she  swept  them  off  her  forehead,  and  approaching  Miss  Elton, 
said  in  a  low,  soft  voice,  — 

"  Madam,  you  must  try  to  love  me,  that  you  may  teach  me 
well,  because  I  wish  to  return  soon  to  my  father." 

"  I  shall  be  certain  to  love  you,"  said  Miss  Elton,  irresistibly, 
as  it  were. 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  certain,  madam ;  how  soon  do  the 
quickest  and  cleverest  girls  leave  school  ? " 

"  At  seventeen,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Elton,  who  saw  at  a 
glance  how  matter-of-fact  her  neAv  pupil  was. 

"  I  shall  try  to  learn  everything  you  wish  me  by  the  time  I 
am  sixteen.     May  I  begin  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  but  you  must  change  your  dress  first.  Your  boxes 
came  yesterday  by  the  wagon,  and  everything  is  ready  for  you. 

"  When  I  am  dressed,  madam,  where  shall  I  find  you?" 

"  I  will  send  Millicent  Erie  for  you." 

"  Is  she  one  of  my  school-fellows  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Will  she  be  kind  to  me  ?  " 

"  She  is  kind  to  every  one." 

"  Then,  madam,  I  shall  be  ready  to  come  down  with  her  in 
half  an  hour." 

"  Will  you  have  no  one  to  help  you  ?  " 

"  O,  no,  madam  ;  papa  would  be  ashamed  of  his  little  girl  if 
she  could  not  do  evervthiusr  for  herself." 

Lotty  lifted  up  her  large  eyes  to  Miss  Elton's  face  with  a 


34  MARGARET 

serious,  searching  look.  She  seemed  satisfied  with  her  scrutiny, 
and  was  turning  away,  when  Miss  Ehon  stooped  down  and 
kissed  her.     A  smile  came  over  the  child's  face  like  a  sunbeam. 

"  Thank  you,  madam,"  she  said,  and  retired. 

Miss  Elton  was  charmed,  and  during  the  half-hour  she  had  to 
wait  for  Lotty's  reappearance,  Avas  solely  occupied  in  thinking  of 
her. 

"  "What  intellect  in  that  broad  brow  and  intelligent  eves ! 
What  firmness  expressed  in  the  mouth  and  chin  !  She  will  be  an 
extraordinary  woman." 

Millici-nt  went  for  her  at  the  time  appointed  ;  and  Avhen  she 
reappeared  Avith  the  new  pupil,  about  whom  something  avou- 
derful  had  been  promulgated,  all  eyes  Avcre  turned  upon  her. 
Lotty's  little  black  frock  set  otf  her  fair  skin  to  great  advantage. 
Her  rebellious  curls  had  been  vehemently  brushed  into  some 
order,  but  Avere  breaking  bounds  all  over  her  head,  threatening 
to  be  in  Avild  confusion  shortly.  Her  figure  Avas  round  and 
plump,  as  a  child's  should  be,  Avithout  being  fat ;  her  features 
Avere  pretty  and  piquant,  Avhile  her  eyes  Avere  glorious.  Alto- 
gether, Lotty's  appearance  created  a  buzz  of  satisfaction  and 
admiration.  She  Avalked  straight  up  to  Miss  Elton,  and  in  a 
confiding,  childish  Avay,  leaned  her  head  against  her,  to  the 
manifest  astonishment  of  sundry  girls,  Avho  had  an  awe  of  Miss 
Elton,  profound  and  deep,  according  to  their  various  misdemean- 
ors. Miss  Elton  Avas  surprised  by  the  quickness  of  her  new 
jnipil :  Lotty  imbibed  knowledge  like  the  air  she  breathed.  At 
five,  after  Avorking  hard,  Miss  Elton  said,  — 

"  Now  you  must  go  and  play,  for  it  is  Avrong  to  Avork  Avithout 
relaxation." 

For  a  moment  Lotty  looked  troubled  ;  then  obeying  Miss 
Elton's  look,  she  took  Millicent's  arm,  and  left  the  room  Avith  the 
other  girls. 

She  stood  aloof  from  them  all,  Avatching  in  silent  Avonder  their 
games,  their  bickerings,  their  altercations. 

One  girl  had  fallen  and  cut  herself,  the  others  passed  heedlessly 
on.  At  that  moment  a  swift  foot  Avas  heard  ;  a  lovely  rosy  girl 
sprang  forward  and  raised  her  Avith  gentle  Avords.  "■  Margaret ! 
Margaret !  "  Avas  uttered  joyfully  by  every  one.  ''  Margaret ! 
dear  Margaret !  " 

"How  are  you  all?"  said  Margaret  ;  "I  am  so  glad  to  see 
you  !  J^ook,  this  is  for  you,  and  you,"  she  continued,  dispensing 
pack(!ls  of  sugar-j)lums.  "And  who  are  you?"  she  added,  run- 
ning up  to  Lotty  Avilh  auch  a  sweet  gloAving  face,  that  she  Avas 
quite  amazed. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  35 

"  I  am  Charlotte  Beauvilliers." 

"  And  I  am  Margaret  Montagu  ;  and  you  must  take  this  kiss, 
because  I  brought  you  no  packet.    I  did  not  know  you  were  here." 

''  I  like  the  kiss  best,"  said  the  truthful  Lotty  ;  "will  you  love 
me?" 

"  Yes,  dearly." 

So  thus  began  that  famous  friendship. 

In  time,  Lotty  grew  just  what  her  mother  meant  school  should 
make  her  —  a  happy,  romping  school-girl,  full  of  life,  health, 
and  spirits.  Her  head  and  heart  were  not  yet  fitted  for  hard 
trials  ;  she  would  have  done  her  duty,  but  probably  sunk  under 
the  weight  of  too  much  responsibility. 


CHAPTER    X. 

But  we  have  foi'gotten  the  bride  and  bridesrroom. 

They  enjoyed  their  tour  very  much.  Margaret  saw  more  of 
the  world  in  that  fortnight  than  she  had  done  in  her  whole  life, 
and  Harold  (who,  to  tell  the  truth,  was  a  little  bit  blase)  derived 
infinite  amusement  from  her  unsophisticated  happiness  and 
delight.  There  was  something  so  new,  fresh,  and  original  to 
him  in  all  she  did,  that  he  thought  he  never  should  be  tired  of 
such  a  companion.  To  be  sure,  she  was  more  girlish  and  simjjle 
than  he  had  imagined,  but  that  was  all  the  more  delightful,  at 
least,  so  it  seeined  at  present. 

In  the  mean  time,  a  very  different  scene  was  acting  at  Mon- 
tagu House.  Millicent  and  Lotty  had  accompanied  Sir  Thomas 
and  Lady  Montagu  there  after  the  marriage,  to  assist  them  in 
their  preparations  for  receiving  their  darling  Margaret  as  Lady 
Leigh. 

During  the  five  years  that  they  had  ostensibly  lived  at  Bath, 
they  always  came  during  the  holidays,  accompanied  by  such 
school  friends  as  Margaret  selected,  to  Montagu  House.  Milli- 
cent in  particular,  and  Basil,  who  was  asked  to  meet  her,  were 
frequent  guests,  even  during  their  grandfather's  lifetime.  For 
he  was  a  just  man,  and  however  faulty  his  son-in-law  might  be, 
and  however  odious  the  wife  he  had  taken  to  replace  his  daugh- 
ter, yet  he  would  not  sujQfer  the  children  to  be  wholly  estranged 
from  their  father. 


36  MARGARET 

Erlscourt  was,  however,  no  place  for  Millicent ;  but  at  Mon- 
tasru  House  she  couhl  now  aud  thou  see  her  lather,  and  occasion- 
ally  spend  a  day  with  him. 

Not  that  it  could  be  any  satisfaction  to  a  gentle,  intelligent 
mind  like  hers,  to  see  how  misrule  reigued  tjiere,  to  s.iy  nothing 
worse.  A  ti-ibe  of  rude,  immauuerly  cliildren,  encouraged  by 
Lady  Erlscourt,  and  unrestrained  by  their  father,  subjected  the 
half-brother  and  sister  to  many  slights  and  indignities,  to  which 
less  indul'Tont  and  kind  natures  would  not  have  submitted. 

Both  Basil  and  Millicent  tried  in  thuir  ditfereut  ways  to  be  on 
more  affectionate  terms  with  their  father's  second  family,  and 
spared  no  means  to  counteract  tlie  evil  influence  of  Lady  Erls- 
court. And  amply  rewarded  did  they  feel  themselves,  if  in  one 
or  two  they  found  symptoms  of  a  better  nature,  and  they  will- 
ingly put  up  with  their  rudeness  in  the  hope  of  benefiting  them. 

Age  and  ill-doings  had  not  impi-oved  cither  Lord  or  Lady  Erls- 
court, since  the  time  that  Basil  had  run  away,  and  by  this  means 
released  himself  and  his  little  sister. 

He  was  more  morose,  irritable,  and  unsociable  than  ever. 

She  had  lost  the  beauty  that  had  raised  her  to  her  present 
position,  and  was  considerably  changed  for  the  worse  in  every 
respect.  In  one  thing  she  remained  unaltered  ;  her  hatred  to 
her  step-children  only  gained  slrength  with  time. 

Basil  stood  in  the  way  of  lier  own  son  becoming  Lord  Erls- 
court, while  Millicent's  beauty,  grace,  and  dignified  manners 
shone  conspicuous  to  the  detriment  of  her  own  daughters. 

Nevertheless  a  semblance  of  interest  and  alfection  was  carried 
on,  though  most  warmly  kept  up  on  the  part  of  the  step-eliildren. 

Basil  visited  his  father  often,  and  was  at  his  command  on  all 
occasions,  for  the  life  Lord  Erlscourt  led  was  beginning  to  tell 
upon  him,  and  it  was  often  necessaiy  to  luive  such  an  adviser  as 
Basil  at  hand.  Lady  Erlscourt  aud  her  numerous  low  relatives 
were  on  the  watch  to  take  any  advantage  they  could  gain.  This 
her  husband  knew  ;  and  not  so  nuich  out  of  love  for  his  son,  as 
to  spile  her,  he  did  nothing  without  that  son's  advice. 

The  disinterested,  highly-principled  conduct  of  Basil  ought  to 
have  won  him  their  best  alleetiuns,  that  is,  if  they  were  worth 
haviuir.  But  a  nature  like  liers  c<juhl  not  understand,  and  a 
heart  like  Lord  Erlscourt 's  could  not  appreciate,  such  conduct. 

Millicent  saw  them  twice  a  year,  during  the  holidays,  which 
she  was  purposely  a>ked  to  spend  at  ^lontagu  House.  Just  be- 
fore her  grandfather's  death,  she  had  been  engaged  to  be  married 
to  a  dear  friend  of  her  brother's,  Gerald  Herbert ;  but  after  this 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  3T 

death,  as  was  intimated  before,  their  trials  began.  Millicent's 
marriage  was  peremptorily  broken  otF,  and  she  was  again  sent  to 
school.  Not  that  any  objection  could  be  made  to  the  match,  or 
to  the  object  of  her  affections  ;  but  it  was  simply  the  old  spirit, 
that  had  so  cruelly  crushed  her  childhood's  happiness,  again 
breaking  forth,  on  finding  her  once  more  in  its  power. 

Basil,  after  enduring  a  series  of  conduct,  disgusting  from  its 
mean  vulgarity,  and  irritating  from  its  excessive  spite,  had  left 
the  home  he  had  wished  to  find  with  his  father,  and  gone  abroad. 

But  to  return  to  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Montagu,  Tl>ey  have 
arrived  at  their  destination.  Old  Sir  Thomas  finds  himself  bet- 
ter, warmer,  more  at  home  in  his  old  velvet-covered  chair,  in  the 
ancient  library,  with  its  blazing  wood  fire. 

Lady  Montagu  is  busy  up  stairs.  She  is  not  looking  to  see 
that  their  own  rooms  are  neat  and  Avell  aired,  and  everything  as 
it  ought  to  be  :  no,  she  is  in  the  state  bed-chamber,  and  she  is 
already  ordering  fires  to  be  lit,  and  the  grand  old  embi-oidered 
satin  coverlid  to  be  brought  out. 

In  fact,  though  she  does  not  expect  her  for  a  week,  she  is  pre- 
paring for  the  coming  of  Lady  Leigh. 

Lotty  is  at  the  window,  partly  thinking  how  glorious  the  trees 
look  in  their  autumn  beauty,  and  partly,  whether  her  school-wife 
finds  Harold  as  good  a  husband  as  she  was. 

Lotty  has  gi-own  a  little,  not  much.  The  Beauvilliers  say  to 
each  other,  "  She  is  very  young,  we  must  not  expect  to  see  her 
very  tall  as  yet." 

Lotty  has  never  forgotten  her  mother's  words.  Though  she  is 
such  a  wild,  mad  thing  at  times,  with  spirits  that  nothing  seems 
to  tame,  she  finds  out  what  her  duty  is  and  does  it. 

Millicent  is  in  the  conservatory.  She  hears  her  name  whis- 
pered in  a  broken  voice.      She  looks  up.     Can  this  be  Basil? 

Weary,  travel-stained,  and  pale  as  he  appeared,  that  was 
nothing  to  the  haggard  wildness  in  his  eyes,  his  restless,  despair- 
ing look. 

"  Dearest  brother  !  "  said  Millicent,  springing  to  his  side. 

"  Sister,  my  sister  !  the  only  thing  I  have  left  to  love  !  "  said 
Basil,  in  hollow  tones. 

"  Basil,  speak  not  thus,  I  implore  you.    What  has  happened  ?  " 

"Ah  !  Millicent,  did  you  not  guess  my  secret?  Could  you  not 
have  guarded  my  treasure  for  me  ?  God  help  me  !  for  vain  is 
the  help  of  man  ;  or  take  me  to  himself,  for  my  burden  is  too 
great  to  bear." 

The  truth  flashed  on  Millicent's  mind. 
4 


38  MARGARET 

"  Basil,  you  were  wrong  not  to  tell  mo.  to  trust  me.  I  con- 
ceived nothing  of  what  I  too  plainly  see  now  —  alas  !  alas  !  too 
late  !  " 

"  I  know  it  is  too  late.  I  hurried  home  on  the  receipt  of  your 
letter,  telling  me  that  the  marriage  was  to  take  place.  1  hastened 
home,  not,  Milly,  to  serve  myself,  but  that  most  lovelv,  innocent, 
gentle  spirit.  I  know  Sir  Harold  by  report  only  ;  but  O  !  Mil- 
licent,  he  is  not  the  husband  she  should  have.  Generous  and 
kindhearted  I  know  he  is  ;  but  she  is  such  a  child,  she  has  such 
a  gentle,  timid  heart ;  if  he  does  not  find  the  way  to  it,  if  he 
speaks  but  an  unkind  word,  he  will  crush  it.  break  it.  Ah  ! 
Milly,  Milly,  did  you  not  know  that  I  loved  Margaret  more  than 
my  life?  that  I  only  refrained  from  telling  her  so,  because  of  her 
youth  and  innocence  ?  " 

"  No,  dearest  Basil,  no,  I  never  guessed  it.  You  have  been 
so  much  together  since  she  Avas  the  little  gentle  child  of  seven 
years  old.  I  traced  nothing  but  the  love  that  had  always  passed 
between  you.  Besides,  I  was  with  Isabel  at  the  seaside  the  last 
holidays." 

"  True,  most  true,"  murmured  Basil.  "  To  the  lone  for- 
est only  did  I  whisper  my  hopes  and  wishes.  'Durino- 
the  long,  silent  nights,  under  the  arching  boughs,  witii  no 
spectator  but  the  quiet,  gentle  moon,  did  I  utter  vows  to 
make  the  hap})iness  of  that  lovely  being  my  one  care  and 
pleasure.  ()!  Margaret,  Margaret,  lost  to  me!  and  still 
more  lost  am  I  ;  thus  dreaming,  thus  speaking,  and  thou  the 
wife  of  anotlier." 

Shocked  to  see  that  strong,  nervous  frame  shaken  like  a  timid 
child's,  still  more  shocked  tit  the  grief  and  despair  whieh  seemed 
to  have  upset  that  high  and  noble  heart,  Milliceut  could  but  kiss 
the  fevered  brow,  and  clasp  tiie  wringing  hands. 

"  He  will  not  understand  her  delicate,  slirinking  nature,  appa- 
rently timid  and  weak,  but  strong  in  its  purposes  of  love  and  un- 
peltishness  ;  and  she  is  so  young,  but  a  child  yet,  to  be  moulded 
into  the  intelligent,  just-thinking,  high-j)rincipled  woman.  I  know 
her,  ah  !  so  well.  Let  a  check  be  given  to  the  elforts  her  own 
heart  will  prompt  her  to  make,  and  (hat  heart  will  close,  and 
preying  upon  itself,  will  break  perhaps,  and  die,  but  never  open 
again,  to  aught  save  love  and  conlidence." 

'*  Basil,  my  brother,"  murmured  Millicent,  in  low,  soft  tones, 
"  we  are  not  to  meet  our  mfither  but  through  nnicli  tribulation  ;  I 
pray  (lod  to  give  you  strengtii  to  Ix-ar  this  burden.  You  have 
much  to  live  for  yet.     Our  house  to  redeem  from  perdition,  our 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  89 

people  aad  lands  to  save  from  destruction.     Think,  Basil,  for  one 
moment,  think  what  we  should  be  without  you." 

"  Give  me  time,  sister,  give  me  time.  But  you  know  me  well 
enou"-h  to  believe  that  I  will  not  bear  this  shame  upon  my  heart 
and  live.  Give  me  but  time.  I  will  now  go  to  the  keeper's 
house  in  the  forest ;  I  will  take  possession  of  my  rooms  there  ; 
I  will  bury  myself  and  my  gi-ief  in  the  heart  of  the  woods.  Pray 
for  me,  Millicent ;  pray  that  I  may  leave  it  there,  and  return  to 
you,  blighted,  indeed,  but  with  a  firm  purpose  to  do  my  duty,  aa 
becomes  a  man  and  a  Christian.  I  think,  yes,  sister,  I  half  think, 
if  I  know  that  she  is  happy,  I  may  die  content." 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  the  strong  manly  frame 
shook  with  emotion. 

"  O,  my  Basil !  may  I  not  come  with  you?  may  I  not  devote 
myself  to  you,  and  you  only?" 

""  No,  Milly,  no  !  I  must  be  alone ;  and  I  beseech  you,  sister, 
tell  no  one  that»  you  have  seen  me,  or  that  I  have  returned  to 
England.  You  shall  hear  from  me  constantly  ;  I  shall  write, 
yes,  perhaps,  daily.  But  give  me  time,  IMilly,  give  me  time, 
and  leave  me  alone  to  wrestle  with  my  sorrow." 

He  folded  her  in  his  arms  wdth  a  hasty  but  fond  embrace,  and 
•was  gone  before  she  could  utter  one  Avord  to  detain  him. 

It  Avas  some  time  before  she  could  calm  herself  sufficiently  to 
return  to  the  library.  Lotty  was  still  watching  the  various 
changes  in  the  lovely  landscape,  as  it  lay  sloping  before  the  win- 
dows, bathed  in  glowing  sunshine  ;  Sir  Thomas  was  dozing,  and 
Lady  Montagu  reading. 

"  Come,"  said  Lotty,  as  Millicent  entered,  "  and  watch  these 
rooks  ;  they  seem  bent  upon  some  extraordinary  quaint  busi- 
ness." 

As  Millicent  joined  her,  she  continued,  in  a  voice  hardly  to 
be  heard  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  "  How  is  Basil?  " 

"What  do  you  know  about  him?"  said  Milly,  in  amazement, 
and  evasively. 

"  I  mean,  how  did  he  bear  it  ?  "  said  Lotty. 

"  Bear  what?     Lotty,  you  are  an  enigma?  " 

"  No,  that  I  am  not ;  I  am  straightforward  enough.  Is  poor 
Basil  in  great  distress  ?  " 

"  How  did  you  know  he  was  here?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  at  all,  but  I  had  an  idea  he  woidd  come,  and 
I  see  a  man's  glove  lying  on  the  lawn.  Now,  it  is  not  Sir 
Thomas's ;  gardeners  do  not  generally  wear  gloves,  so  I  con- 
cluded it  to  be  Basil's."  - 


40  MARGARET 

"  Lotty,  Lotty,  you  are  too  quick  for  me  to  deceive  you. 
Basil  has  indeed  been  here,  that  is,  the  ghost  of  Basil.  Ah,  my 
Lotty !  never  did  I  see  such  a  change," 

"  Come,  do  not  take  on  so  ;  I  dare  say  he  wished  no  one  to 
know  he  is  here,  so  let  us  go  into  the  dear  old  forest,  then  you 
shall  tell  me  everything,  and  cry  at  your  leisure  —  it  wiU  do 
you  good." 

Milly  looked  with  surprise  at  the  little  school-girl  by  her  side, 
and  when  they  Avere  fairly  out  of  the  house,  said,  "  Little 
Lotty,  tell  me  how  you  know  all  these  things  that  you  seem 
to  know  ?  " 

"  Nobody  told  me,  but  I  guessed.  I  am  fifteen,  and.  Miss 
Elton  says,  quite  learned  enough  to  leave  school  next  year. 
However,  I  love  Margaret,  and  I  love  Basil ;  I  tliink  he  is  a 
man,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  fit  to  take  upon  himself  the 
care  of  such  a  creature  as  Margaret.  He  is  loving,  yet  manly ; 
gentle,  yet  firm  ;  good,  yet  forbearing.  I  like  B<isil  very  much, 
and  if  he  had  man-ied  Margaret,  I  would  have  been  bridesmaid  ; 
that  is,  I  think  I  would,  for  I  do  not  approve  of  marrying." 

"  And  Avhy,  little  one,  did  you  deem  it  necessary  to  have  any 
ideas  ou  the  subject?" 

"  AV'liy  should  I  not?  Did  Flory  and  Carry  think  of  aught 
else?  to  say  nothing  of  Augusta.  They  believed  me  to  be  a  safe 
listener,  ignorant  and  innocent,  so  I  heard  all,  and  drew  my 
conclusions.  If  any  man  marries  you  he  will  do  well.  If 
Basil  had  married  Margaret,  they  would  have  been  happy  ;  now, 
she  Avill  not,  without  a  great  dt'al  of  sorrow  first.  If  any  one 
marries  Flory,  he  will  have  a  niischief-nuiking,  gossiping  wife, 
and  that  is  not  good.  If  any  body  marries  Carry,  he  might  just 
as  well  have  some  old,  fat,  child-spoiling  nurse  for  a  wife,  which 
is  also  not  good.  And  if  any  foul  marries  Augusta,  —  but  is 
there  such  a  fool  in  the  world?  I  think  not.  Lastly,  if  any  one 
wants  to  marry  me,"  —  here  Lotty  drew  herself  up,  —  "  he  will 
repent  it.  80  you  sec,  out  of  all  of  us,  I  deem  only  one  fit  to  be 
married." 

Lotty  chatted  on  thus,  to  divert  her  companion's  mind. 

"  You  are  certainly  very  quick-witted,  my  Lotty,"  said  Mil- 
licent. 

"  About  men,  I  am,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  because  I  live  with  them 
so  much.  But  all  my  brotliers,  and  uncles,  and  cousins  are 
true  Ik-auvillians  —  tlioy  all  make  good  husbands  ;  and  I  wi>h, 
Millv,  you  Nvuuld  think  of  marrying  JSuruuiu,  instead  of 
Gerald." 

"  Lotty ! " 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  41t 

"  Well,  do  not  look  so  indignant !  There  now,  that  has  done 
you  good,  getting  in  a  rage  ;  no,  rage  I  cannot  call  it,  but  get- 
ting put  out  with  me.     Now,  come,  pray  tell  me  how  is  Basil?" 

"  Heart-broken,  Lotty." 

"Not  quite,  I  hope.  Where  has  he  hid  himself?"  I  sup- 
pose at  the  old  keeper's  cottage." 

"  Lotty,  you  are  a  little  witch." 

"  No,  only  sharp.  But  could  you  not  imagine  to  yourself 
that,  buried  in  the  heart  of  the  forest,  with  nothing  but  the 
grand  old  trunks  of  the  trees,  and  the  beautiful,  spiritual  tracery 
of  the  branches  all  around  you,  with  a  pale  star  gleaming  here 
and  there,  like  the  pitying  eye  of  an  angel,  you  could  there  lay 
your  son-owful  heart  before  the  Almighty,  and  be  sure  that  the 
pitying  eyes  would  bear  the  bruised  thing  to  heaven?" 

"  My  Lotty  !  how  unlike  the  wild  Lotty  you  talk." 

*' But  why  should  I  not  feel,  especially  for  those  I  love? 
Basil  will  talk  to  his  beloved  forest,  he  will  pour  out  his  griefs 
in  her  lonely,  dark  bosom,  and  return  to  us  with  the  light  and 
the  sun  ;  but  he  will  never  love  any  one  but  Margaret.  And 
now,  see  the  rooks  are  wheeling  about,  preparatory  to  a  flight 
to  their  dormitories  ;  we  must  fly  home,  too,  or  we  shall  lose 
our  dinners.  You  must  not  fret ;  you  cannot  unmarry  Mar- 
garet. I  never  approved  of  the  marriage,  mind  ;  let  Basil  sur- 
feit himself  with  grief,  he  will  then  begin  to  think  of  the  dearest 
of  sisters,  and  be  comforted." 

"But,  Lotty,  you  surprise  me  so  ;  but  now  you  were  the  little 
wild  school-girl,  coming  to  me  for  advice  on  every  occasion  :  our 
positions  seem  to  me  reversed." 

"  That  is  because  your  kind  heart  is  so  grieved  and  disturbed 
for  Basil ;  your  usual  judgment  and  sense  are  clouded.  Now  I, 
caring  for  nothing  and  nobody,  think  calmly  and  with  reason." 

"  Caring  for  nothing  and  nobody,  Lotty?" 

"  Yes,  since  I  have  lost  Margaret.     But,   however,   do   not 

fear  that  our  reversed  positions  Avill  be  permanent ;  take  your 

place  again,  be  the  loved,  honored,  adored  Millicent,  and  I  will 

be  once  more  Charlotte  Beauvilliers." 
^  * 


42  MARGARET 


CHAPTER     XI. 

Maroarkt  passed  her  father's  threshold  like  a  sunbeam. 
Surely  they  had  forgotten,  even  in  that  short  tiuR-,  that  she  was 
so  lovely,  fresh,  and  blooming  ;  or  were  her  natural  perfections 
doubled,  as  she  stood  by  the  side  of  her  handsome,  distinguished- 
lookin'jr  husband,  blushin<;  and  smilin<T  under  the  "lance  of  his 
beaming  eyes  ?  To  herself  she  seemed  doubled  ;  another  heart 
■was  hers,  another  life  and  existence  bound  with  her  life.  Two- 
fold were  her  sources  of  pleasure  and  happiness  ;  she  had  yet  to 
realize  that  twol'old  might  be  her  sorrows. 

The  partial  dotage  into  which  Sir  Thomas  had  fallen,  through 
grief  at  the  loss  of  his  daughter,  and  fear  lest  they  had  not  done 
wisely  by  their  Margaret,  gave  Avay  before  the  delight  of  her 
presence,  the  sunny  halo  she  diffused  around  her.  Kach  night 
he  confided  to  the  equally-pleased  mother,  "  I  think  we  did  right 
to  let  our  Margaret  marry  ; "  and  each  night  she  answered  iu 
return,  "  God  bless  her  sweet  beaming  face  ;  may  we  die  ere  we 
see  it  changed  !  " 

Little  Lotty  was  very  unpleasant  all  this  time,  and  so  far 
from  suffering  Margaret  to  hold  her  former  place  in  her  time 
and  affections,  was  continually  to  be  seen  in  a  biting,  sarcastic, 
acrimonious  mood,  which  had,  among  her  school-fellows,  gained 
her  the  name  of  "  Bear." 

At  a  certain  hoiu-  every  day  she  Avoidd  moimt  her  pony,  and, 
in  sulky  silence,  start  off  alono  for  the  forest ;  and  though  some 
secret  signs  might  pass  between  her  and  Millicent,  the  Beauvil- 
lian  blood  was  not  in  a  mood  to  submit  to  any  questioning. 
That  she  rode  some  distance  and  at  a  good  pace,  might  be  judged 
from  the  state  of  her  steed  when  she  returned,  but  nothing  more 
definite  could  be  obtained  of  her  doings. 

"  ludeed,  Lotty,"  said  Margaret,  one  day,  "  I  tliink  you  are 
very  unkind  to  me  ;  your  holidays  are  nearly  over,  and  perhaps 
when  you  are  again  at  liberty  I  may  not  be  here." 

"  You  will  n<jt  miss  me,  I  dare  say;  yon  have  Harold,"  re- 
turned Lotty. 

''  But  1  shall  miss  you,  my  little  school-husband  ;  and  do  you 
imagine,  becanst!  I  am  married,  that  every  other  feeling  is 
absorbed  ?  unkind  little  bear  !  " 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  43 

"When  every  other  word  you  say  is  '  Harold,'  I  do  not  know 
how  Lotty  is  to  be  considered." 

"  You  know  my  first  duty  is  to  him,  and  all  my  first  wishes 
should  be  ;  nevertheless,  there  is  no  reason  why  we  are  to  love 
each  other  less." 

"  I  did  not  approve  of  the  marriage  from  the  first,"  retorted 
Lotty  ;  "  it  is  so  absurd  of  girls  to  go  and  many  when  they  do 
not  quite  know  their  own  minds,  and,  at  all  events,  have  not  lost 
all  their  girlisms,  and  become  reasonable  women." 

"I  do  not  know  that  you  ever  found  me  unreasonable, 
Lotty." 

"  No ;  I  should  be  very  glad  for  you  if  I  thought  you  Avere 
likely  to  become  unreasonable  now  and  then,  for  I  am  sure  it 
would  do  Harold  good." 

"  How?  "  said  the  loyal  young  wife,  her  cheek  flushing. 

"  Because  he  has  been  accustomed  to  have  everything  so 
much  his  own  way,  that  he  Avill  become  a  victim  to  enmii, 
unless  you  give  him  a  little  trouble.  If  he  had  been  Avise 
enough  to  marry  Augusta,  he  would  have  been  in  hot  Avater 
all  his  life,  and  all  the  better  for  it." 

Tears  filled  the  soft  eyes,  so  lately  Lotty's  pride  and  delight. 

"  O  Margaret  !  Margaret !  don't  cry  !  How  can  you  care  for 
what  your  wild  Lotty  says  ?  " 

"But  I  do  care  ;  how  can  I  help  it?  I  know  you  only  say 
what  you  feel." 

"  Then,  my  Queen  Margaret,  remember  what  I  say :  it  is  not 
good  to  let  a  man  see  how  much  you  love  him,  or  how  great  his 
power  is  over  you.  If  he  has  a  mean  mind,  he  will  take  advan- 
tage thereof;  if  he  has  a  generous,  kind  heart,  like  Harold's, 
he  will  not  think  the  better  of  you  for  always  deferring  to  his 
opinion  ;  he  will  forget  to  '  give  and  take,'  '  bear  and  forbear.' 
Do  not  let  him  think  that  you  are  a  lovesick  school-girl.  Hus- 
bands nowadays,  and  all  days,  I  imagine,  Avant  some  other 
qualities  in  their  Avives  beside  love,  Margaret." 

"■  I  doubt  I  am  nothing  better,  Lotty.  I  feel  great  purposes 
within  me,  but  they  are  all  love,  and  nothing  else." 

"  Then  all  I  can  say  is,  Plarold  is  A'ery  happy  to  have  such 
love,  and  I  hope  it  Avill  do  you  both  a  great  deal  of  good." 

"  I  must  say,  I  have  been  highly  edified  Avith  this  lecture 
on  matrimony,"  said  Millicent,  coming  forAvard  ;  "  and  really 
wonder,  do  not  you,  Margaret,  AA^here  little  Lotty  picks  up  her 
experience  ?  " 

Lotty  pouted. 


44  MARGARET 

"I  shall  be  curious  to  see  how  she  conducts  herself  when  a 
wife,  shall  not  you,  M;irgaret?"  continued  Milly. 

'•  I  thiuk  she  will  be  the  best  little  wife  iu"^the  world,"  said 
Margaret,  her  kind  heart  feeling  for  Lotty's  discomposure. 

"Have  you  the  letter  ready?"  said  tlie  little  Bear  to  Milli- 
cent,  "  for  it  is  time  I  should  so." 

"  Where  do  you  go,  Lotty  ?"  said  Margaret. 

"  She  is  a  messenger  for  me,  dear  Meg,"  said  IMilly  ;  "  but 
I  shall  not  send  to-day,  Lotty,  dear,  tliat  you  may  be  as  much 
Avith  Margaret  as  possible."  As  she  spoke,  a  carriage,  evidently 
from  Erlscourt,  drove  furiously  up  to  the  door.  With  the  cer- 
tainly that  it  could  only  be  the  bearer  of  some  bad  tidings,  Mil- 
licent  and  her  companions  hastily  left  the  room  to  learn  the 
reason. 

Lord  Erlscourt  had  met  with  some  sad  accident,  such  as  pre- 
cluded, so  Basil's  hasty  letter  said,  any  hopes  of  a  favorable 
recovery.  In  foct,  if  she  wished  to  see  her  father  again,  she 
must  return  to  Erlscourt  in  the  carriage  sent  for  her. 

It  needed  no  further  persuasion  to  decide  Millicent ;  in  a  few 
minutes  she  was  ready.  Lotty  obtained  permission  to  accom- 
pany her  ;  it  was  well  slie  had  that  faitiiful  little  comforter,  for 
the  scene  at  Erlscourt  was  much  more  trying  and  painful  than 
any  imagination  of  hers  could  picture.  *  The  ungodly,  dyin"- 
father,  the  sellish,  upbraiding  wife,  the  unruly,  riotous  cliildren, 
all  formed  a  scene  so  painful  and  disgusting,  tiiat  nothing  but 
the  firm  determination  to  do  their  duty  supported  the  brother 
and  sister. 

Basil  besought  Millicent  to  make  no  inquiries  CDUceruin"-  the 
cause  of  the  accident;  while  she,  in  tenderness  to  him,  refrained 
from  thinking  of  aught  else  than  assisting  him. 

Tiie  surgeons  had  ann(nmced  their  inability  to  hold  out  any 
hopes  of  life,  while  the  battered,  bruised  apjjearance  of  their 
patient,  his  squalid,  soiled  clothes,  and  bloated,  sulleu  visage, 
too  plaiidy  show(Ml  that  a  drunken  broil  with  ])eopIe  nnu-h  be- 
neath him,  Jiad  given  a  rascal's  death  and  felon's  end  to  a  peer 
of  the  realm.  And  yet  this  was  not  so  sad  to  see,  as  the  riule, 
grasping  determination  with  wiiich  his  wife  and  her  relatives 
crowded  round  the  dying  bed,  with  indecorous  haste  and  greedi- 
ness, to  get  words,  if  not  deeds,  executed  in  their  favor.  In 
vain  Millicent,  seated  l)y  her  father's  pillow,  apjialled  by  the 
fierce  oaths  and  imprecations  that  fell  from  li])s  that  ought  to 
have  been  praying,  besought  them  to  leaM-  ]vm  in  jie.ace.  The 
words  and  threats  they  dare  not  bestow  on  him  Mere  showered 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  45 

on  herself.  Basil,  seated  on  the  other  side  bathing  his  father's 
hot  temples,  said  nothing ;  he  knew  that  to  speak  would  be  to 
raise  the  storm  still  higher.  The  dying  father  looked  at  his 
eldest  son  and  daughter  ;  the  pitying  eyes  of  each  were  fixed  on 
him  with  unmistakable  love  and  devotion ;  their  fair  hair,  so 
silky  and  Avavy,  so  like  their  mother's,  gave  them  the  appearance 
of  angels  amid  the  group  of  dark,  lowering  faces.  He  feebly 
waved  his  hand  to  enforce  silence,  and  in  a  distinct,  clear  voice, 
said, — 

"  I  leave  everything  of  which  I  die  possessed  to  my  sou 
Basil." 

The  head  di-ooped,  the  jaw  fell  —  Lord  Erlscourt  was  dead  ! 


CHAPTER    XII. 

SoJiE  months  passed  away. 

Sir  Harold  and  Lady  Leigh  had  departed  for  Court  Leigh, 
leaving  the  kind  and  loving  old  parents  happy  in  the  society 
of  a  daughter-in-law  and  two  fine  grandchildren,  and  still  more 
happy  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  their  Margaret  again  at  Christ- 
mas. 

Lotty  was  oncfi"  more  at  school ;  she  had  neither  eyes  nor  ears 
for  anything  but  good  hard  study.  Miss  Elton  half  repented  the 
concession  she  had  made,  that  she  should  leave  school  at  six- 
teen ;  one  more  year  there,  and  Lotty  would  have  all  the  learn- 
ing Miss  Elton  was  capable  of  imparting,  at  her  fingers'  ends. 
Already  she  was  much  above  every  girl  in  the  sclaool.  No 
study  tired  her,  no  intricacies  puzzled  her.  But  Lotty  had 
ceased  to  be  the  merry  school-girl ;  Augusta  had  left  school, 
and  it  was  reported  she  was  going  to  be  married  to  a  rich 
Loudon  banker,  an  M.P.  ;  but  time  went  on,  still  neither  cake 
nor  wedding  favors  arrived. 

Carry  and  Flory  are  both  to  leave  school  next  half,  being  two 
very  pretty,  ignorant,  conceited,  happy  school-girls.  Millicent 
is  with  her  brother  deep  in  the  forest,  dwelling  together  in  the 
old  Forest  House.  But  she  is  happy ;  sometimes  alone  with 
Basil,  sometimes  accompanied  in  her  walks  and  rides  by  a  fit- 
ting mate  for  such  beauty  and  gentleness  as  hers. 

She  is  to  be  married  in  the  spring ;  that  was  Basil's  first  act 
and  deed,  as  was  fitting  it  should  be.     And  Basil  himself? 


46  MARGARET 

In  those  dark-blue  eyes  there  is  a  shado^n',  the  beautiful  head 
%vith  its  cluistoring  curls  of  fair  hair  droops,  the  tiue  athletic 
frame  falters,  but  ouly  when  aloue. 

As  his  father  died  with  those  words  upou  his  lips  that  left 
Basil  heir  to  everything,  there  also  fell  a  conviction  upou  his 
mind  that  he  was  responsible  for  everything. 

Assuming  at  once  the  position  he  meant  to  keep,  which, 
spite  his  youth  and  inexperience,  all  could  see  he  would  keep, 
Basil  dismissed  peremptorily,  forever,  the  rude  and  riotous 
com])auions  his  father  had  so  unfortunately  encouraged  ;  leav- 
in"-  all  unnoticed  the  gibes  and  sneers  that  followed  all  his 
actions,  the  taunts  that  were  showered  on  him,  because  his 
father's  funeral  was  performed  with  the  utmost  privacy  and 
quietness.  It  needed  but  little  time  to  show,  that  the  young 
Lord  Erlscourt  knew  Avhat  he  ought  to  do,  and  did  it.  l*er- 
haps  the  hardest  duty  he  had  to  perform  Avas  with  Lady  Erls- 
court. But  she,  in  her  turn,  discovered  that  vituperative 
threats,  beseechings,  and  entreaties,  were  alike  unavailing  with 
the  present  head  of  the  house.  Besides,  her  best  policy  was  to 
be  friends,  for  otherwise  she  and  her  children  were  beggars. 
The  old  lord,  Avicked  as  he  had  been,  kncAv  the  value  of  a 
character  like  Basil's,  and  felt  that  he  left  his  Avife  and  second 
family  in  the  safest  hands,  Avhon  he  Ici't  them  in  his  son's. 

As  soon  as  Basil  found  that  Ladv  Erlscourt  could  be  reason- 
able,  he,  Avith  the  delicacy  of  a  good  and  gi'eat  mind,  opened  his 
plans  to  her,  as  if  for  consultation  botAveen  them.  And  she 
found  that  although  she  had  only  the  semblance  of  a  choice,  yet 
she  could  not  but  feel  that  she  little  deserved  the  good  fortune 
her  step-son  Avas  preparing  for  her. 

It  Avas  absolutely  necessary  for  the  Avell-being  of  the  estate 
that  Erlscourt  should  be  cleared  of  its  late  inhabitants.  Basil 
felt  that  no  efforts  of  his  could  remove  the  base  influence  of  the 
late  reign,  so  long  as  one  of  the  old  domestics  was  allowed  to 
remain. 

Lady  P>lscourt  Avould  haA-e  remonstrated,  had  she  dai-ed, 
on  Basil's  determination  to  shut  the  castle  up  for  a  term  of 
years  ;  b>it  he  allowed  her  so  handsome  a  sum  to  hire  a  house 
in  London,  Bath,  or  any  other  town,  that  she  cr)uld  say  nothing  ; 
further  sums  Avere  given  her,  but  all  at  Basil's  free  command, 
upon  her  fullllling  certain  conditions  regarding  her  chiMrcn. 
The  two  eldest  girls  Averc  to  be  sent  to  school  ;  he  imderfook 
the  expense  of  educating  the  boys  himself;  this  arrangement 
would  leave  her  a  little  girl  to  be  a  compaoion  at  home. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  47 

In  every  thing  to  secure  the  respectability  of  his  half  brothers 
and  sisters,  Basil  acted  with  the  wisdom  of  an  older  head,  and 
the  generosity  of  a  noble  mind. 

He  fitted  up  the  old  Forest  House,  and  having  cared  for  them 
all,  and  established  them  all  as  he  wished,  he  waited  but  the  end 
of  their  mourning  to  make  the  patient  Millicent  happy,  happy  in 
the  love  and  confidence  of  a  heart  most  worthy  of  her  :  to  give 
her  such  happiness  as  Avas  never  to  be  his. 

True,  he  had  many  duties  before  him,  and  he  would  taste  the 
rare  happiness  of  doing  good,  and  reaping  the  fruits  thereof. 
He  had  the  hard,  and  yet  most  pleasing,  duty  of  improving  his 
estates,  reforming  his  tenantry,  repairing  the  rack  and  ruin  of 
the  last  reign,  and  was  young  enough  to  feel  assured  that,  in 
all  probability,  he  would  see  the  benefits  of  his  labors.  Was 
there  no  pleasure  in  these  prospects,  in  these  hopes?  There 
was. 

Basil  ajjain  said  to  himself,  — 

"  If  I  only  know  that  the  gentle  angel  who  so  early  crossed 
my  path  of  life  is  happy,  I  shall  live  content." 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Court  Leigh  was  a  very  fine  old  place  :  quaint  and  curious 
were  its  angles,  courts,  and  turrets,  with  casement  windows  of 
all  sizes  and  shapes,  scarcely  two  alike.  Myrtle  trees  crept  up 
to  the  higher  windows,  ciat  and  trimmed  with  such  old-fashioned 
precision,  that  the  eyes  lingered  lovingly  on  a  wild  creeping  rose, 
which  sent  its  thousand  clusters  of  scented  blossoms  in  every 
direction.  Down  by  the  lower  windows  it  grew  with  the  grave 
decorum  that  seemed  to  pervade  the  place  ;  but  up  out  of  reach,  it 
threw  its  graceful  brandies  in  wild  confusion  over  the  staid 
myrtles,  peeping  out  here  and  there,  when  least  expected,  every 
bright  blossom  laughing,  as  in  sport,  that  no  pruning  knife  could 
reach  them. 

The  stately  pleasaunce  of  oldon  time  was  not  wanting,  leading 
to  an  avenue  of  walnut  trees  ;  this  was  again  crossed  by  one  of 
elms,  and  further  in  the  distance  was  a  double  avenue  of  gnarled 
old  oaks  ;  magnificent  trees,  many  centuries  old,  leading  the 
imagination  to  wonder  if  they  ever  could  have  been  young,  ten- 
der saplings,  so  old,  so  gray,  so  venerable  did  they  appear. 


48  MARGARET 

Near  the  house  was  a  stately  parterre  of  flowers,  with  clipped 
yew  trees  at  regular  distances,  and  little  summer-houses  at  each 
corner. 

jSot  a  dead  leaf  to  be  seen,  not  a  twig  displaced,  not  a  branch 
out  of  order.  Lovely  as  the  old  house  looked  in  the  evening 
sunset,  yet  said  Margaret  to  herself,  "  AVhat  a  formal  old 
garden  ! " 

Lady  Katheriue  Leigh,  with  the  gentle  and  quiet  Pru.  and 
Pro.,  were  there  to  greet  the  newly-married  pair,  and  while  the 
bride  felt  that  nothing  could  be  meant  more  kindly,  the  formality 
of  her  I'cception  matched  the  garden. 

Between  a  small  lane  of  servants.  Lady  Katherine  advanced, 
and  restraining,  by  her  solemn  manner,  Margaret's  gentle 
impulse  of  affection,  made  a  sort  of  oration  over  her,  which 
visibly  affected  Pru.  and  IVo.  and  some  of  the  stately  maidens, 
while  Harold  inwardly  chafed,  and  suppressed  tittering  might 
have  been  heard  from  among  the  younger  servants.  She  was 
about  to  perform  the  same  ceremony  over  her  son  ;  but  taking 
his  mother's  arm  in  his,  he  led  her  into  the  draAving-room 
before  she  had  time  to  say  a  word. 

"  My  son,  my  dear  son  !  on  such  an  occasion  it  was  proper 
I  should  say  a  few  words." 

"  Dearest  mother,  I  am  so  fatigued,"  said  Harold,  throwing 
himself  listlessly  on  the  sofa. 

"  A  few  words,  my  dear  son,  were  expected  of  me  ;  I  had 
prepared  them." 

"  I  kiss  your  hands,  dear  mother,  and  ask  for  permission  to 
have  some  soda  water." 

Lady  Katherine  was  not  to  be  put  down  in  this  way  ;  Harold 
had  his  soda  water,  shared  half  with  his  dear  Meg,  drew  her  on 
to  tlie  sofa  by  his  side,  and  then  lelt  he  might  listen  ])aticntly. 

So  he  had  it  all  two  or  three  times  over,  with  the  action  in- 
tended for  each  point ;  and  while  he  might  weary  at  his  mother's 
prolixity,  he  felt  thankful  this  scene,  copied  from  some  act  of  the 
blessed  Queen  Charlotte's,  was  enaeted  before  so  small  an 
audience.  Three  out  of  the  four  certainly  listening  with  devout 
and  reverent  attention,  not  to  say  admiration. 

Lady  Katlierine  was  a  very  kind-hearted,  good  woman,  but 
not  by  any  means  a  sensible  one. 

Let  an  idea  once  gain  entrance  into  her  brain,  it  remained 
there  stereotyped ;  no  accidental  circumstance,  no  change  of 
events  altered  that  idea  ;  it  l)ecame  fixed  in  her  mind  in  the 
original  state  in  whicii  it  eulei'ed.     She  had  married  late  in  life 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  49 

herself,  indeed  she  was  nearly  forty  before  that  event  took  place, 
consequently  she  had  not  undergone  the  ordeal  of  a  new  life,  or 
a  new  change  of  ideas,  when  the  mind  was  young  and  plastic ; 
she  had  therefore  no  idea  of  change  -^—  variety  was  inconceivable. 
Whether  her  opinions  and  habits  agreed  with  old  Sir  Harold 
Leigh's,  might  have  been  questioned  had  they  lived  long  to- 
gether ;  but  having  ainple  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  discre- 
tion and  care  with  which  she  ruled  his  house,  the  stateliness  with 
which  she  presided  at  the  head  of  his  table,  and  the  excellence 
of  her  cuisine^  he  managed  to  live  very  happily  for  eight  years 
Avith  a  woman  who  was  certainly  intended  by  education,  if  not 
by  nature,  for  an  old  maid,  rather  than  a  wife  and  mother. 

On  becoming  a  widow.  Lady  Katherine  assumed  an  extra 
portion  of  reserve  and  state.  Everything  was  conducted  after 
the  mauuer  of  a  small  court ;  whereof  Lady  Katherine  was 
Queen,  the  pretty  little  erect  ladies,  Geoi-gina  and  Charlotte,  were 
princesses,  and  a  rosy,  curly-pated,  baby  boy,  the  heir-apparent. 

Under  this  stiff  but  kind  rule,  formal  but  gentle  sway,  no 
wonder  Georgina  and  Charlotte  changed  into  Prudence  and 
Propriety. 

Harold  of  course  went  to  school,  from  school  to  college,  from 
college  into  the  army,  ever  bearing  a  deferentiali  and  dutiful  feel- 
ing towards  his  mother,  while  each  change  of  scene  and  place 
the  more  unfitted  him  for  the  sombre  pleasures  of  his  home. 

It  never  entered  Lady  Katherine's  head  that  a  young  man 
ought  to  have  something  to  do ;  she  could  not  expect  the  fine, 
handsome,  lively  boy  to  sit  down,  knit  or  knot,  play  quadrille  or 
cribbage,  evening  after  evening,  from  week  to  week,  year  to 
year,  as  the  dutiful  and  patient  Georgina  and  Charlotte  did. 
But  still  she  could  not  suffer  such  an  act  as  that  he  should  go 
shooting  with  keepers,  hunting  with  farmers,  fishing  with 
strangers.  She  suffered  prodigious  anxieties,  trying  to  think  of 
some  employment  for  him,  having  some  faint  remembrances  of 
idle  hands  and  Satan's  mischief,  which  tormented  her,  without 
her  being  able  to  discover  why  it  did  so.  She  ransacked  the  old 
library  for  proper,  and  at  the  same  time  reasonably  entertain- 
ing books  for  him ;  she  even  learned  backgammon  to  please 
him ;  though  Pru.  and  Pro.  were  sent  to  the  other  end  of  the 
room  when  they  played,  that  their  innocent  minds  might  not 
even  know  the  look  of  dice.  Nevertheless  Harold's  holidays 
always  cost  her  a  fit  of  illness,  and  the  termination  of  them  was 
generally  highly  agreeable  tg  all  parties,  though  they  loved  each 
other  warmly. 

5 


V 


60  MARGARET 

As  Harold  grew  older,  he  would  have  liked  to  employ  the 
many  hours  he  spent  over  idle  stories,  novels,  or  travels,  or  that 
he  lounged  away  with  his  dogs,  or  slept,  or  ate  away,  in  riding 
over  his  estates,  and  becoming  acquainted  with  his  tenantry. 

But  that  was  quite  tbi'bidden,  was  considered  about  the  last 
thing  he  ought  to  do  ;  in  fact,  evcrj'thing  regarding  business, 
all  the  duties  and  obligations  of  landlord  and  tenant,  were  care- 
fully kept  from  him,  not  from  any  other  feeling  than  that  Lady 
Katherine  had  been  taught  to  consider  there  was  an  insuperable 
bar  between  the  rich  and  the  poor. 

They  had  an  agent  or  steward  —  he  was  the  proper  person  to 
manage  such  thinj^s  ;  but  for  Sir  Harold  to  know  that  he  had 
tenants  who  had  wants,  or  for  them  to  know  that  they  had  a 
landlord  who  would  himself  attend  to  such  wants,  was  deemed 
by  Lady  Katherine  a  thing  unknoAvn,  unheard  of. 

So  from  his  childliood  Harokl  had  many  idle,  Aveary,  listless 
days,  wherein  he  had  nothing  to  do,  nothing  in  which  to  be 
interested. 

This  had  imparted  to  his  cliaracter  a  sort  of  indolent  independ- 
ence of  anything  not  peculiarly  interesting ;  torpor  of  mind 
Avould  accompany  torpor  of  body  ;  and  though  on  occasion  he 
could  readily  throw  off  both,  and  appear  the  frank,  generous,  in- 
telligent fellow  he  really  was,  yet  he  as  rea<lily  gave  way  to  the 
dolce  far  nieyite,  and  was  at  tlie  time  of  his  marriage  as  useless 
and  uninteresting  a  member  of  society  as  a  rich  young  baronet 
could  be  allowed  to  be. 

Nevertheless  he  was  the  cynosure  of  the  loveliest,  softest  eyes, 
the  loadstone  of  the  warmest,  gentlest  heart  this  erring  world 
can  give. 

Though  no  one  was  present  save  thomselves.  Lady  Katliorinc 
had  deemed  it  proper  to  have  a  grand  Itauquet  ])reparetl ;  all  tiie 
rich  old  family  plate,  all  the  rare  old  china,  and  drajjcry  marvel- 
lous for  age,  beauty,  and  fineness  of  texture,  were  disj)laycd. 

lint  I\rargaret  was  thinking  so  much  of  Ilarolil,  so  far  from 
her  at  the  bottom  of  the  groat  taMe,  yawning  and  looking  vexed, 
that  she  noticed  but  little  of  all  this  grandeur.  They  wont  through 
the  Ion;,',  stately  dinner  in  a  di;,niifiod  manner  certainly;  Lady 
ICathcrine  prosed  to  her  heart's  content  ;  I'ru.  and  I'ro.  feebly 
chirped,  noAv  and  then,  little  staid  sentences  ;  Harold  was  almost 
silent,  and  Margaret  was  fast  catching  the  chirping  tone,  in  her 
efforts  to  comport  herself  to  Lady  Katherine's  satisfaction. 

When  at  last  tlio  weary  dinner  was  over,  and  the  servants 
were  withdrawn,  Harold  jumped  up  with  some  degree  of  energy, 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  .  51 

and  protesting  he  would  be  banished  no  longer,  seated  himself  in 
the  old-fashioned  window,  where  Margaret,  with  joyful  alacrity, 
joined  him.  She  looked  very  much  inclined  to  seat  herself  upon 
a  loved  knee  that  looked  an  invitation  most  indisputably ;  but 
awe  of  Lady  Katherine  prevented  that  indecorum ;  still  one 
little  white  hand  did  nestle  coaxingly  in  the  luxuriant  hair,  so 
dark,  so  rich. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Katherine,  "  pray  do  not ;  remember 
there  are  young  people  in  the  room  ;  I  cannot  permit  Georgina 
and  Charlotte  to  witness  such " 

"  Dear  mother,  may  not  my  wife  pull  about  my  locks?"  said 
Harold, 

"  Certainly  not,  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing ;  should  any 
servant  have  occasion  to  enter,  pray,  my  de^ir  son,  what  would 
they  think?" 

"  Servants  have  no  business  to  think,  mother,"  said  Harold, 
yaAvniug. 

"  Shall  we  go  out,  Harold?  "  whispered  Margaret. 

"  Yes,  by  Jove  we  Avill !  any  place  is  better  than  tliis  banquet- 
scented  room." 

"  Pray,  my  dear  son  and  daughter,  be  seated.  I  have  much 
to  say  to  you,  Harold ;  as  a  mother,  it  is  my  duty  to  give  you 
some  advice  on  your  conduct  as  a  married  man,  and  the  head  of 
your  family." 

Harold  sat  down  without  a  word  certainly,  but  with  an  ex- 
pression in  his  face  Margaret  had  never  seen  before. 

Lady  Katherine  recapitulated  her  speech  before  dinner,  with 
sundry  other  remarks,  which  altogether  drew  the  discourse  into 
such  a  length  that  Harold  was  convicted  of  a  snore  in  one  of  the 
most  interesting  parts.  Apologizing  in  sincerity  for  his  rudeness, 
Harold  declared  he  must  go  out,  for  the  journey,  and  the  length 
of  the  dinner,  had  fatigued  him  in  a  great  degree.  He  disap- 
peared in  such  a  hurry  that  Margaret  had  not  even  time  to  ob- 
tain a  glance.  She  was  too  timid  to  dare  to  think  of  accompany- 
ing him,  so  she  followed  the  stately  and  rather  offended  old  lady 
into  the  great  drawing-room,  with  an  air  as  meek  and  obedient 
as  her  two  daughters. 

There  they  sat  for  two  long  hours,  doing  nothing  but  listen  to 
the  old  lady's  numerous  and  rather  confused  stories  of  her  court 
life ;  —  while  Margaret  heard  the  step  she  loved  best  in  the 
woi-ld,  pacing  up  and  down  before  the  windows,  smelt  the  faintest 
scent  of  a  cigar,  and  heard  the  low  humming  of  a  voice  that  was 
music  to  her. 


52  MARGARET 

Yet  she  felt  it  very  wrong  and  treacherous  of  her  to  feel  tired, 
"wcarj,  and  forlorn,  and  not  even  the  admiring  glances  aud  timid 
whispers  of  atfection  trom  her  new  sisters  could  make  up  for  the 
hearing  that  measured  tread.  With  tea  came  the  truant,  much 
refreshed,  and  very  eloquent  in  his  praise  of  the  beauty  of  the 
night. 

Then  remarking  the  pale  looks  of  his  wife,  he  recommended 
her  to  go  to  bed,  whither  the  kind  Pru.  conducted  her,  and  the 
more  active  I*ro.  ran  on  before,  to  see  all  Avas  as  it  shoidd  be. 

In  the  warm,  simple  ailection  they  gave  her,  Margaret  did 
not  take  further  notice  of  their  childish  pleasure  and  girlish 
questions,  than  to  imagine  that  they  Avere  adapting  their  manners 
to  her  school-girl  habits  ;  and  she  loved  them  all  the  more  for 
their  goodness  to  her. 

Lady  Katherine  had  sense  enough  to  know,  and  good-nature 
enough  to  declare,  that  she  and  the  young  Lady  Leigh  must  not 
reign  together.  She  only  intended  to  remain  with  them  a  short 
time,  to  give  them  the  advantage  of  her  wisdom  and  counsels,  to 
start  on  their  matrimonial  career  with  dignity  and  propriety, 

A  house  within  the  park  had  been  prepared  lor  her  aud  her 
daughters,  so  near,  that  at  any  time  her  vahiable  advice  could  be 
had  for  the  asking :  so  Margaret,  with  the  sweet  earnestness 
natural  to  her,  and  the,  modest  appreciation  of  her  own  merits, 
set  herself  seriously  to  Avork,  to  imbibe  as  much  courtly  Avisdom 
as  she  coidd  ;  thinking,  in  tlie  innocence  of  her  girlish  heart,  that 
she  Avas  making  herself  more  fit  to  be  tlie  Avife  of  Harold.  lie 
Avas  not  at  tirst  aAvare  that  a  curb  Avas  placed  upon  the  liappy  floAV 
of  spirits,  so  delightful  in  his  eyes,  but  rather  imputed  the  change 
from  her  girlish  gayety  to  embarrassment  and  fatigue  consequent 
on  her  new  posit  if )n.  So  no  Avonder  Court  Jx'igh  seemed  to  him 
etill  the  dullest,  most  A\'eary  place  in  the  Avorld. 

"  I  should  like,"  said  Margaret,  one  day,  as  they  paced  sloAvly 
among  the  formal  old  flower-beds,  "  to  make  a  really  ])retty  gar- 
den here.  These  beds  look  very  stiff  from  the  windoAvs,  aud 
there  are  no  floAvers,  either  SAveet  or  ncAV,  in  them." 

"I  think,  little  Avife,  that  is  a  very  good  notion  ;  the  country 
is  such  a  bore,  and  this  is  such  a  dull  old  hole,  1  shall  be  glad  of 
somelhing  to  do." 

*'  O  !  Harold,  do  not  call  our  home  dull !  " 

"But  it  is,  jMargarc't;    I  have  nothing  to  do  here." 

Margaret  Avas  too  young  and  igncu-aut  to  know  Avhy  or 
wherefore  this  Avas  the  fact,  but  said, — 

"  You  shall  juiike  the  plan  of  a  garden,  aud  so  Avill  1,  and 
our  sisters  shall  judge  bctAvceu  us." 


AND   HEE   BRIDESMAIDS.  63 

*'  Make  a  garden,  dear  Margaret,"  said  Pru. 

"  You  and  Harold  make  a  garden  !  "  echoed  Pro. 

"  No,  not  ourselves,  but  draw  the  plan  of  one,"  said  Margaret. 

"  O  !  draw  a  plan,"  said  Pru. 

"  Of  a  garden  ?  "  said  Pro. 

"Yes,  quite  right,  and  you  shall  judge  which  is  best,  my 
plan  or  Harold's." 

"  But  we  do  not  understand  plans,  dear  Margaret,"  said  Pru. 

*'  No,  we  never  studied  plans,  dear  Margaret,"  said  Pro. 

They  had  peculiar  drawling,  but  still  sweet  voices ;  and  as 
they  echoed  each  other,  Margaret  could  hardly  resist  laughing, 
while  Harold  said  in  mimic  tones,  "  I  hope  you  will  teach  them 
plans,  dear  Margaret." 

The  two  gentle  sisters  blushed  at  their  brother's  mockery,  but 
a  horseman  appeared  on  the  lawn,  which  prevented  further  con- 
verse on  their  part ;  for,  like  well-bred,  obedient  girls,  they  flut- 
tered away  through  the  open  window,  to  place  themselves  under 
the  care  and  surveillance  of  their  mother,  although  Harold 
exclaimed,  "  It  is  Philip  !  " 

Philip  was  a  man,  though  a  cousin,  and  a  young  man  too,  that 
is  about  their  own  age,  very  handsome  also  :  so,  though  a  near 
relative,  they  did  not  appear  again  but  in  the  company  of  their 
stately  mother. 

Margaret  had  time  to  notice  the  new  arrival,  and  to  learn  his 
relationship  to  her  ere  he  dismounted.  Save  her  own  Harold, 
and  perhaps  Basil  Erie,  he  was  the  handsomest  man  she  had 
ever  seen. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

Philip  Leigh  was  Harold's  first  cousin ;  he  had  a  small 
estate  and  a  beautiful  house,  called  High  Leigh,  in  the  very  cen- 
tre of  Harold's  property.  He  was  some  years  older  than  Harold, 
and  as  his  uncle,  the  last  baronet,  had  married  very  late  in  life, 
for  some  time  Philip  had  been  considered  heir-presumptive.  Even 
after  his  uncle's  marriage  with  Lady  Katherine,  two  little  girls 
were  born  succeeding  each  other  quickly,  but  for  five  years  no 
other  children  followed.  It  was  therefore  most  natural  that 
Philip's  father  and  mother  should  look  upon  their  son  as  the 
future  baronet,  and  bring  him  up  accordingly. 

0* 


54  MARGARET 

Pliilip  was  beginning  fully  to  appreciate  the  idea  of  being  Sir 
Philip,  and  to  speculate  upon  Court  Leigh  being  so  much  more 
desirable  to  live  in  than  High  Leigh,  when  Harold  unexpectedly 
made  liis  appearance  nearly  six  years  at'tiT  his  youngest  sister, 
and  not  above  four  months  before  his  father's  death. 

Philip  never  forgave  Harold  this  disappointment. 

Though  handsome,  clever,  witty,  sensible,  and  moderately 
rich,  Philip  lived  in  the  world  houoi'ed  and  esteemed,  yet  nourish- 
ing in  his  heart  a  foolish,  mean  feeling  of  envy,  which  only 
wanted  a  little  encouragement  to  break  out  into  malice. 

Sulliciently  talented  to  succeed  in  whatsoever  he  undertook ; 
handsome  enough  to  gain  admiration  wherever  he  went ;  mode- 
rate in  regard  to  luxury  aud  wealth,  so  as  to  feel  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  tiie  fortune  he  possessed,  yet  Philip  counted  none  of 
these  things  of  any  value  or  pleasure  to  him,  simply  because  he 
was  not  Sir  Philip. 

It  was  strange  that  so  childish  and  foolish  a  notion  should  have 
taken  such  deep  root  in  a  naturally  strong  and  vigorous  intellect. 
But  so  it  was  :  every  one  is  supposed  to  be  weak  on  one  subject, 
and  that  was  his,  little  as  any  of  his  intimate  friends  or  admirers 
thought  so.  He  was  unmarried,  not  through  want  of  any  oppor- 
tunities of  being  so  ;  for  his  handsome  mouth  would  curl  with 
rather  supercilious  pride  when  questioned  on  the  subject,  and  he 
wa.^j  wont  to  turn  such  conversation  from  the  point  Avith  .a  half 
laugh  of  scorn,  that  his  hearers  granted  I'hilip  Leigh  might  use 
■with  impunity. 

There  was  not  a  young  lady  in  his  county  who  would  not  have 
been  proud  to  call  Philip  Leigh  liusb;ui;l,  and  he  kiU'W  it.  from 
poor  little  Pru.  aud  I'ro.,  upwards  and  dov/nwards.  No,  he  dwelt 
alone ;  there  he  could  brood  over  his  one  disappointment,  and 
rate  and  rail  away  in  solitude  at  a  freak  of  fortune,  mitlier  ho 
nor  any  other  man  living  could  remedy.  It  may  be  imagined, 
therefore,  he  came  with  no  very  friendly  feelings  to  greet 
Harold's  wife  ;  that  Harold,  who  became  Sir  Harold  at  four 
mont'is  oM,  and  who  grew  and  throve  in  a  maimer  surjiassing 
most  babies,  and  was  therefore  the  more  to  be  disliked  and 
envied. 

Who  caught  measles,  hooping  cough,  and  scarlet  fever  Avith 
wonderful  celerity,  and  threw  them  all  off  as  (piickly  as  he 
caught  th(!m. 

Who  never  got  a  bad  bill,  thoiigli  riding  by  stealth,  for  fear  of 
his  st.'itely  mothrr,  ;dl  the  must  vicious  aud  unbroken  horses  in 
the  neighborhood. 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  55 

Who  never  was  shot,  or  shot  any  one,  or  accidentally  blew  out 
his  own  brains,  though,  for  the  above-mentioned  reason,  he  took 
every  avaiUible  opportunity,  wliether  safe  or  unsafe,  of  acquiring 
knowledge  in  the  art  of  gunnery. 

He  grew  up  unscathed,  unliarnied,  as  fine,  strong,  and  healthy 
a  specimen  of  her  Majesty's  subjects  as  might  be  seen  in  her  do- 
minions ;  and  here  he  was  Avitii  a  wife,  who  would  most  likely 
put  an  etFectual  stop  to  Philip's  secret  ambition. 

His  quick,  handsome  eyes,  looked  thoughtfully  on  Lady  Leigh, 
as  she  blusliingly  welcomed  her  Harold's  kinsman.  "Very 
pi'etty,  but  young  and  foolisli,"  he  mentally  said  to  himself. 

As  he  rode  home  after  half  an  hour's  visit,  he  mused  witliin 
himself,  and  thought  thus, — 

"  Lady  Leigh  is  very  lovely,  but  she  has  married  by  six  years 
too  soon  ;  she  is  nothing  but  a  school-girl  still :  if  I  mistake  not, 
Harold  will  want  something  more  than  a  merely  pretty  wife,  to 
bind  him  to  a  home  he  has  never  loved.  If  in  her  present  pliable 
girlhood  she  takes  pattern  by  Lady  Katherine  they  will  not  be 
happy  long.  Harold  must  have  excitement  of  some  sort,  or  he 
will  be  annoyed  to  an  intolerable  degree.  Humph !  I  think 
Lady  Leigh  has  not  wit  to  see  that  she  should  strike  out  a  line  of 
her  own,  and  not  copy  Lady  Katherine.  I  think  she  already  be- 
gins to  speak  like  Pru.  and  Pro.,  and  Harold  will  never  stand 
such  peaking  and  puling.  However,  far  be  it  from  me  to  inter- 
fere :  if  he  would  marry  a  school-  girl  who  ought  still  to  be  in  her 
pinafore  instead  of  wedding  gear,  it  is  no  business  of  mine.  Yet 
there  is  a  look  in  her  eyes,  a  wonderful  look,  —  I  suppose  it  is 
love,  —  pure,  deep,  earnest  love,  such  a  love  as  lives  but  once  in 
the  human  heart,  and  leaves  it  but  with  death.  Will  such  a  love 
conquer  the  monotony  and  every-day  trials  of  married  life  ?  Will 
it  prove  of  sufficient  depth,  fervor,  and  strength  to  bind  Harold 
to  an  existence,  place,  and  people  he  has  hitherto  always  dis- 
liked and  fled  from  ?  In  an  older  heart  it  might  perhaps  ;  but  I 
do  not  think  under  that  simple  girlish  manner  such  devotion  wiU 
be  deemed  to  dwell.  I  wonder  how  I  should  feel  with  a  wife's 
eyes  looking  at  me  as  hers  did  at  Harold?  I  fancy  I  should  like 
it ;  I  have  now  nothing  left  me  but  to  marry.  Bat  whom?  Not 
a  single  woman  that  I  know  could  I  tolerate  for  a  month,  not 
even  Harold's  pretty  bride,  with  her  fathomless  love  eyes. 

"I  have  lost  the  excitement  of  wondering  if  Harold  would 
mai-ry  ;  now  my  fate  is  decided  ;  I  feel  that  unless  I  get  up 
some  irritation,  some  object  about  which  to  interest  myself,  I 
shall  sink  into  the  hereditary  malady  of  the  Leighs,  and  become 


56  MARGARET  * 

a  hypochondriac.  Marriage  is  hateful  to  me  —  every  woman  to 
be  had  for  the  asking ;  so  that  unless  I  may  act  Bluebeard,  and 
marry  a  new  wife  wlien  I  am  tired  of  the  old  one,  — '  I'll  none 
on't.'  I  think  I  will  amuse  myself  by  making  mischief  between 
Harold  and  his  wife.  I'll  not  go  too  far,  but  just  see  if  my 
judgment  is  at  fault  concerning  their  future  career.  If  he  would 
marry  a  raw,  innocent  school-girl,  it  is  sm'ely  no  fault  of  mine." 


CHAPTER    XV. 

So  Philip  became  a  constant  visitor  at  Court  Leigh,  and  was 
quite  aware -that  he  was  a  most  welcome  guest.  His  easy,  quiet 
flow  of  amusing  conversation,  his  pei'tinent  and  sensible  remarks, 
were  each  iu  their  turn  admired  by  the  whole  household. 

"■  Philip  puts  me  much  in  mind  of  his  gracious  Majesty,"  said 
Lady  Katherine,  who  meant  George  the  Third,  and  had  not  been 
able  to  realize  the  existence  of  any  other  sovereign  ;  "•  his  re- 
marks are  so  sensible,  without  being  verbose." 

"  My  cousin  Philip  is  very  sensible,"  chirped  Pru. 

"  I  think  our  cousin  Philip  is  sensible,"  echoed  Pro. 

"  Philip  is  a  good-hearted,  downright  amusing  fellow,"  said 
Harold. 

"  I  am  always  so  glad  to  see  Philip,"  said  the  softest,  sweetest 
voice  possible,  "  he  amuses  Harold  so  much." 

I'liilip  knew  as  well  as  Harold  that  great  discontent  and  much 
distress  reigned  throughout  the  whole  estate  of  Cotift  Leigh. 

The  old  Sir  Uaroltl  had  never  interested  himself  tibout  it  ;  and 
more  from  ignorunce  than  unkindness.  Lady  Katherine  had  de- 
clined interfering  between  the  tenantry  and  the  steward  ;  and,  as 
we  have  seen,  brought  up  Harold  in  tiie  same  ignorance. 

The  little  that  he  did  know  only  made  him  take  refuge  in  the 
old  proverb,  "•  Wlmre  ignorance  is  Idiss,  'tis  iolly  to  be  wise." 
With  his  natin;il  incdisposition  to  indolence,  fostered  by  educa- 
tion, he  had  inihihcd  u  sort  of  liorror  of  every  sort  ol"  busiiu'ss  ; 
therefon;  everytliing  was  left  iu  tlie  hands  of  his  steward,  who, 
while  doing  the  best  he  could,  was  ol)liged  to  sacrifice  some  per- 
son at  limes  to  meet  exigencies  ;  as  that  never  could  be  the  heir, 
of  course  nil  <rriovanci's  fell  on  the  t(Miants.  Dilapidated  build- 
ings, tumble-down  cottages,  gateless  lields,  broken-down  hedges, 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  57 

marked  the  property  of  Court  Leigh  in  every  direction.  But 
Harold  -u-as  not  induced  by  the  sight  to  put  them  to  rights,  for  he 
did  not  even  know  they  were  his  ;  also  he  might,  had  he  not  been 
too  indolent  to  notice  it,  have  been  struck  with  the  difference  be- 
tween his  cousin's  small  estate  and  his  own.  Philip  had  not  a 
bad  heart,  but  he  had  suffered  the  little  speck  of  envy  to  spread 
and  corrode  it ;  also,  he  was  not  religious ;  like  many  men  of 
vigorous  intellect  and  strong  mental  powers,  he  was  apt  to  make 
those  powers  his  God.  Save  that  he  was  not  Sir  Philip,  the 
head  of  the  family,  what  was  there  that  he  was  not  ?  In  his 
own  eyes  none  were  equal  to  Philip  Leigh,  with  none  coidd  he 
compare  himself.  Yet  this  one  black  spot  of  envy  was  making 
him  a  mean  man,  and  leading  him  on  to  do  things  for  which  he 
would  be  condemned  and  despised  by  every  right-minded, 
honorable  man. 

A  little  encouragement  about  this  time,  from  one  esteemed  as 
he  was,  would  have  made  Harold  exert  himself;  and,  once  he 
began  to  interest  himself  in  his  affairs,  it  was  not  difficult  to  im- 
agine he  might  become  an  efficient  country  gentleman. 

But  Philip  took  a  contrary  course. 

For  want  of  some  better  amusement  Harold,  with  no  love  for 
it,  was  apt  to  linger  over  the  wine,  more  to  escape  his  mother's 
prosy  court  stories  and  lectures  than  anything  else :  Philip 
encouraged  him  in  this.  In  their  many  conversations  and 
mutual  confidences,  the  warm-hearted,  frank  Harold  would  dilate 
upon  the  simple  beauty  of  his  wife's  character.  Philip  chimed 
in  with  a  sort  of  compassionate,  supercilious  air,  that  gave  one 
the  notion  they  Avere  talking  of  some  young  and  timid  pet,  and 
left  on  Harold's  mind  the  impression  that  his  wife  Avas  a  mere 
child.  And  although  Pliilip  hated  himself  for  this  meanness,  he 
was  yet  so  led  away  by  his  master-passion,  that  he  kept  on  in  the 
same  course. 

"  O  Lady  Leigh  !  "  said  he,  one  day,  "  I  am  delighted  to  find 
you  alone.  In  general  you  are  so  surrounded  with  delighted  ad- 
mirers, that  I  am  unable  to  get  in  a  word." 

"Yes,"  said  Margaret,  simply,  "  my  sisters  are  very  kind  to 
be  so  fond  of  me  ;  we  get  on  so  happily  together." 

"  Then  you  must  not  be  surprised  if  I  envy  them,"  said  Philip  ; 
"  I,  Avho  delight  so  much  in  the  society  of  superior  female  minds, 
and  have  so  seldom  enjoyed  it." 

"Did  you  not,  then,  know  Lady  Katherine  before?"  said 
Margaret. 

"  Is  she  laughing  at  me,  or  a  fool?"  thought  Philip.     Then 


58  MARGARET 

aloud,  "  0,  yes  !  But  do  you  compare  yourself  to  Lady  Kath- 
eriue  ?  " 

"  No,  not  at  all,"  said  Margaret,  laughing.  "  I,  a  simple 
school-girl,  O,  no  !  " 

"But  tlie  loveliest  of  her  sex,"  said  Philip,  with  hypocritical 
fervor ;  saying  to  himself,  "  She  is  so  simple,  she  will  swallow 
anvthino;." 

"  So  Harold  says,"  said  Margaret,  quite  composedly,  but  with 
such  naivete,  Philip  could  see  she  cared  not  one  straw  for  her 
beauty  save  as  Harold  prized  it. 

"■  AVould  that  I  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  see  you  before 
Harold  did,"  he  continued,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Ah,  yes  ! "  said  Margaret ;  "  for  then  you  would  have 
told  me  of  him,  and  I  should  have  learned  to  love  him  ere 
I  saw  him." 

Philip  bit  his  lip,  the  corners  of  his  haughty  mouth  curled 
with  disdain,  as  Margaret  continued, — 

"  For  I  was  very  much  afraid  of  him  at  first,  and  would 
neither  speak  to  him  or  look  at  him,  which  was  very  foolish, 
was  it  not,  Philip  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but,  pray  tell  me,  do  you  love  no  one  but  Harold?  " 

"  0,  yes  !  AVhat  is  this  world  to  me  but  love  !  I  have  ex- 
perienced no  other  feeling !  I  know  not  unkindness,  or  ever 
heard  a  harsh  word  ;  love  surrounds  me,  and  I  can  but  give 
love  in  return." 

"  Will  you  give  it  me  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  dear  Philip  !  "  said  Margaret,  holding  out  both  her 
hands  and  taking  his,  her  lovely  face  beaming  with  aflcctiou 
and  brightness.     "  How  can  I  help  loving  you,  Harold's  own 


'a 

cousin?" 


Foiled  again,  Philip  Leigh  !  What  sort  of  character  is  she  — 
can  she  be?  tor  such  a  one  had  never  crossed  his  path  before. 
Was  she  really  so  very  innocent,  so  simple,  so  guileless?  Did 
she  really  love  Harold  with  such  strange  earnestness  and  devo- 
tion, that  she  could  sec  nothing  but  tiirongh  him? 

She  was  a  woman  after  all  —  nothing  but  a  tender,  loving 
woman.  There  must  be  some  soft  spot  in  that  gentle  heart  to 
will' Ii  he,  in  his  world-Avise  wisdom  and  pride  of  intellect,  could 
Hurcly  find  his  way.  He  had  never  been  foiled  by  woman  yet ; 
and  that  a  school-girl  should  puzzle  him  was  not  to  be  endured. 
The  Leigh  lethargy  disappeared  under  this  new  excitement ;  we 
will  leave  him  to  pursue  his  way. 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  69 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

Basil  and  Millicent  were  quietly  living  in  their  forest  home  ; 
he,  schooling  his  heart  to  perform  its  allotted  duties,  through  the 
long  life  that  seemed  his  probable  fate.  The  gayer,  fairer,  more 
delectable  path  being  closed  before  him,  he  turned  into  the  rug- 
ged, rough  road  of  duty,  and  already,  in  the  distance,  discerned 
gems  of  beauty  and  brilliance  opening  their  rays  towards  him, 
as  if  from  heaven. 

Millicent  was  preparing  for  her  marriage,  and  studying, 
amons  the  wild  forest  childi-en,  to  learn  the  duties  of  a  cler- 
gyman's  wife. 

Gerald  Herbert  had  been  for  some  years  in  holy  orders,  but 
as  yet  having  no  living,  he  acted  as  curate  in  large,  densely- 
populated,  neglected  towns. 

Conscientious,  zealous,  and  indefatigable,  he  was  one  of  the 
most  promising  specimens  of  the  young  clergymen  who  now,  in 
these  happy  days,  begin  to  abound  in  this  still  more  happy  laud. 

His  beaming  eyes,  his  energetic  countenance,  and  jSrm,  strong 
character,  would  have  marked  him  in  earlier  ages  as  a  willing 
and  enthusiastic  martyr.  But,  in  these  times,  they  give  birth  to 
the  surmise,  that,  in  the  fiurih  and  excitement  of  youthful  energy, 
he  might  perhaps  be  led  into  extremes,  wliich  his  matured  judg- 
ment would  deprecate. 

The  marriage  was  to  be  very  private,  because  the  year  of 
mourning  for  her  father  had  not  yet  expired  ;  still  Basil  intended 
the  ceremony  to  take  place  at  Erlscourt :  wishing  to  prove  if  his 
earnest  endeavors,  his  high  principles,  had  conquered  in  the  task 
he  had  given  them  to  do. 

Sir  Harold  and  Lady  Leigh  were  'among  the  first  guests  in- 
vited ;  and  while  IVIargaret  was  glowing  with  delight  at  seeing 
them  all  again,  Basil  was  nerving  himself  to  receive  in  pure  and 
noble  courtesy  in  heart  as  in  conduct,  that  woman  as  a  guest 
whom  he  had  hoped  to  welcome  as  his  wife. 

But  Margaret  had  two  other  reasons,  besides  her  dear  Milly's 
promised  happiness,  for  looking  forward  to  this  meeting  with 
feelings  only  to  be  described  as  ecstatic. 

Her  Harold,  so  like  her  Harold,  had  desired  her  to  present, 
as  a  wedding-gift  to  the  bridegroom  elect,  the  living  of  Holm- 
leigh.     It  was  worth  five  hundred  pounds  a-year,  with  a  veiy 


60  MARGARET 

pretty  rectory-house,  and  above  all,  was  only  a  mile  from  Court 
Leigh.  Thus  Margaret  and  Milliccnt  might  look  forward  to 
spending  their  closing  years  together,  as  they  had  done  their 
opening  ones. 

The  other  news  could  only  be  whispered  ;  and  it  Avas  whis- 
pered in  the  sweet  twilight,  as  they  sat  together  the  first  even- 
ing that  they  met.  Had  thei'e  been  light  enough,  Milly  would 
have  wondered  at  Margaret's  beauty,  with  the  rosy  bloom  blush- 
ing bright,  and  the  dark,  soft  eyes  glancing  with  a  pure  radiance 
as  slie  uttered  her  secret. 

"  I  am  to  have  a  little  Harold  in  the  summer ;  you  will  be 
near  me,  iMilly,  and  will  see  that  he  is  his  father's  image." 
Milly  showed  by  her  delight  the  due  importance  she  attached  to 
this  secret. 

It  may  be  deemed  strange  that  Millicent  did  not  urge  Basil  to 
seek  any  other  guests  save  his  present  ones :  but  she  judged  of 
his  heart  by  her  own,  and  knew  that  he  Avould  not  be  calm 
and  free  from  vain  and  foolish  regrets,  until  he  had  thoroughly 
rooted  from  his  heart  any  love  for  the  wife  of  another,  than 
what  ought  to  find  place  there. 

The  wound  might  smart  under  this  mode  of  treatment,  but  its 
cure  would  be  all  the  more  effectual  the  more  it  Avas  cauterized  ; 
and  to  see  her,  be  with  her,  her  husband  by  her  side,  her  love 
for  another  before  him,  would,  she  thought,  be  the  last  thing 
necessary. 

She  ai)peared  before  him  more  lovely  than  ever,  more  gentle 
and  engaging  than  his  former  fondest  expectations  had  deemed 
possible  ;  but  the  pure  halo  of  a  wife's  love  surrounded  her. 
He  enshrined  her  in  his  heart  as  an  angel,  and  vowing  lur  a 
brother's  love,  with  warm  courtesy  and  generous  hospitalitv,  lie 
set  himself  the  task  of  welcoming  Sir  Harold  and  Lady  Leigh 
to  Erlscourt,  as  honored  and  beloved  guests. 

"  How  came  it.  Queen  Margaret,"  said  Sir  Harold,  "  that 
you  never  told  me  of  Erlscourt  and  Erlscourt  lord  ?  "  Harold 
had  adopted  Lotty's  term  of  endearment  and  devotion  for  J\Lir- 
garet,  and  she  well  became  the  title  ;  tlii-re  was  something  so 
stately  in  her  sweet  simiilicity,  so  (|tU'eiilike  in  her  modest  au\ 
This  Harold  said  one  iiiglit  in  conjugal  (•i)nterence. 

"  This  is  my  first  visit  to  Erlscourt,"  said  Margaret,  nestling 
in  her  accustomed  place. 

"  But  Ei-lscourt  is  nothing  without  Basil,  as  you  call  him. 
How  came  you  to  be  so  intimate,  sweet  Meg?" 

His  "  sweet  Meg"  told  him  the  whole  story  from  besiuniuc: 
to  end,  wmdmg  up  by  saymg, — 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  61 

"  You  know,  Harold,  there  is  no  one  like  Basil  in  the  world, 
and  we  all  know  it  so  well,  that  I  thought  you  did  also." 

"  A  pretty  confession  from  a  wife  to  her  husband,  Queen 
Margaret." 

"In  what  way,  Harold?"  she  answered. 

"  Did  you  not  say,  there  was  no  one  in  the  world  like  Basil? 
and  am  not  I,  your  husband,  deemed  worthy  a  comparison  ?  " 

"O,  no!  Harold,  I  compare  you  with  another?  You  knew 
that  could  not  be  ;  a  wife  does  not  compare  her  husband  around, 
about,  near  her ;  he  is  her  husband,  what  more  ?  the  rest  of  the 
world  are  nothing." 

Harold  kissed  the  earnest,  beseecliing  eyes,  half  pleased  with 
the  devoted  love  she  thus  betrayed,  and  half  amused  at  the 
seriousness  with  v/hich  she  answered  his  bantering,  though 
none  knew  better  than  he  did  what  that  answer  would  be. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  Harold,  my  little  Lotty  will  not  be  at  the 
wedding." 

"I  am  sorry  too,  for  your  sake,  dear  wife;  but  I  care  not 
much  for  your  little  friend ;  she  does  not  seem  to  affect  me, 
Margaret." 

"  O,  yes !  Harold,  she  does ;  she  is  the  dearest,  truest- 
hearted  little  thing  iu  the  world." 

"  She  may  be,  for  aught  I  know." 

"  I  want  to  ask  her  to  come  and  see  me  at  Court  Leigh  ;  may 
I,  Harold?" 

"  Ask  the  whole  school  if  you  like,  my  Meg,  governess  and 
all." 

Margaret  laughed  in  girlish  glee  at  this  notion,  and  then  said, 
"  So  kind  you  are,  my  Harold." 

"  But  do  not  forget  my  mother's  lecture  upon  young  ladies, 
with  which  she  favored  us  three  nights  running; :  if  I  mistake 
not,  she  passed  some  rather  severe  censures  on  your  Lotty,  and 
designated  her  an  unmannerly  hoiden,  while  Miss  Clai'e  Avas  her 
beau  ideal  of  high  breeding  and  gentlewomauliness.  That's  a 
long  word,  but  it  is  my  mother's  favorite  one,  and  which  she 
uses  as  a  text  when   she  sermonizes  Pru.  and  Pro. 

"  How  funny  you  are  to-night,  Harold ;  but  though  I  cannot 
explain  why,  everybody  at  school  loved  Lotty,  and  very  few 
cared  for  Augusta." 

"O!  that  is  easily  accounted  for  —  Augusta  is  very  hand- 
some." 

"  Dear  Harold,  how  naughty  of  you,  so  unlike  you,  to  say 
such  a  thing." 

6 


62  MARGARET 

"  It  is  rather  sharp  of  me,  I  own,  but  I  always  feel  very  lively 
and  chatty  when  away  from  Court  Leigh  ;  my  spirits  get  the 
better  of  my  discretion.  But  ask  all  your  scliool-lcllows  that 
you  wish,  sweet  wife,  for  it  will  enliven  that  dull  old  place,  and 
Pru.  and  Pro.  want  a  little  school-girl  nonsense  knocked  into 
them." 

"  I  will  ask  my  bridesmaids  and  Lotty,  Harold ;  thank  you 
much,  and  you  must  ask  Basil." 

"  Very  well,  we  will  employ  our  time  in  getting  up  a  love- 
match  between  him  and  one  of  the  school-girls  ;  I  shall  like  tluit, 
it  will  be  something  to  do." 

"  I  hope  Lotty  will  be  his  choice,"  laughed  Margaret,  entering 
into  her  husband's  mirth. 

"  No,  no,  none  of  them  will  have  a  chance  with  Augusta ; 
besides,  being  much  the  prettiest,  she  is  much  the  best  hand 
at  flirting :  your  Lotty  is  a  little  bear." 

"  Ah  !  that  is  what  we  called  her  at  school ;  she  is  sometimes 
cross,  but  so  true  and  warm-hearted,  and  she  might  be  so  con- 
ceited and  spoiled,  for  she  is  so  idolized  among  her  own  people." 

"  However,  I  think  none  of  them  quite  good  enough  for  that 
glorious  fellow,  Basil,  none  but  you,  Margaret  :  now,  how  came 
you,  Queen  Meg,  to  miss  falling  in  love  with  him  ?  Confess  now, 
and  perhaps  I  will  give  you  absolution  if  you  tell  the  whole 
truth." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Margaret,  laughing  and  blushing,  "  I  have 
nothing  to  confess ;  Basil  and  I  were  just  like  brother  and 
sister." 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  my  little  wife,  I  think  I  just  secured 
you  in  time  ;  when  you  left  school  and  liacl  nothing  to  think 
alxiut.  and  were  in  tlie  liabit  of  seeing  that  liur  fellow  constantly, 
I  doubt  not  you  would  have  tumbled  'full  fathom  live'  in  love 
with  him." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Margaret ;  "  only  you,  Harold." 

"  I  ])romise  you  I  am  j)leased  to  tliiiik  so,  my  Queen.  I  have 
taken  a  great  lancy  to  our  host ;  I  ne\  er  saw  a  more  '  proper 
man  : '  with  his  coat  thrown  back  from  that  broad,  powerful 
chest,  his  black  silk  handkerchief  knotted  with  such  careless 
grace  around  his  throat,  his  locks,  bestowing  themselves  so 
])icture.squily  round  his  head,  I  was  greatly  struck  with  his 
appearance  at  first  sight ;  then,  Meg,  when  he  s])oke,  when  his 
countenance  lighted  up,  and  lie  looked  at  me,  Avith  his  wondi'v- 
lul  di'i'p  blue  eyes,  and  such  a  smile  |)assed  from  the  eyes  down 
to  the  mouth,  like  the  sun  breaking  through  a  cloud,  why  then, 
Margaret,  I  wondered  you  never  fell  in  love  with  him." 


AND   &ER   BKIDESMAIDS.  63 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  wedcHng  day  arrived. 

Unlike  Margaret's  Avedding,  there  was  no  crying,  no  dressing, 
no  hurry,  no  train  of  bridesmaids,  no  glitter,  no  pomp.  Her 
tAvo  half  sisters.  Sir  Thomas  and  Lady  Montagu,  with  some  of 
(Gerald's  relatives,  formed  the  party,  Caroline,  Florence,  Lotty, 
and  Augusta  had  all  been  asked,  but  Caroline  was  going  to  be 
married  herself  to  a  bluff  young  country  squire,  and  wanted  Flor- 
ence's able  assistance  ;  Lotty  was  at  school,  and  Augusta  wrote 
to  say,  "  That  though  her  heart  would  be  with  them,  and  she 
should  regret  to  the  end  of  her  life,  however  long  she  might  live, 
that  she  could  not  come  ;  yet  the  fact  was,  she  begged  it  might 
be  kept  secret,  she  could  not  obtain  leave  of  absence  from  a  cer- 
tain person,  who  must  be  nameless,  but  who  ere  long  would 
have  the  fiat  of  her  fate  in  his  hands,  &c.,  &c.  The  sentence 
was  very  long,  and  ran  on  from  one  thing  into  another,  tmtil  it 
became  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  discover  its  real  meaning. 

But  it  was  a  very  happy  wedding. 

The  affectionate  love  of  Basil  proved  itself  in  the  joy  with 
which  he  save  his  sister  to  the  husband  who  had  waited  so 
patiently  for  her  ;  and  the  gentle  Millicent  herself,  having  no 
home  to  regret,  no  parents  to  leave,  had  only  one  alloy  on  this 
her  wedding  day  —  she  had  to  part  from  Basil. 

After  the  ceremony  was  over,  they  left  for  their  new  home, 
Holmleigh,  where  Gerald  was  to  enter  at  once  upon  his  duties- 
Margaret  and  her  husband  intended  paying  a  visit  to  her  good 
old  parents,  and  from  thence  return  to  Court  Leigh. 

"  Dear  Meg,"  said  Harold,  as  they  left  Erlscourt,  "  I  am 
sorry  to  leave  this  place,  and  though  I  mean  while  we  are  at 
Montagu  House  to  trouble  Basil  pretty  often  with  my  company, 
I  somehow  feel  as  if  we  were  leaving  a  good  atmosphere  when 
leaving  him." 

Margaret  had  been  content  to  know  that  everything  went 
well  when  Basil  was  at  hand,  without  finding  out  the  cause  ;  so 
she  merely  answered,  — 

"  I  am  so  glad,  Harold,  you  like  him." 

"  I  do  more  than  like  him,  I  respect  him.  I  begin  to  think 
I  was  not  rightly  brought  up.  Surely  if  Lord  Erlscourt  thinks 
it  necessary  to  look  after  his  own  affairs,  to  be  up  early  and 


64  MARGARET 

late,  not  suffer  even  the  meanest  of  his  people  to  be  denied 
an  audience  —  it  -would  not  be  unbecomiug  a  baronet  to  do  the 
same." 

"O  Harold!  but  you  would  not  like  it,  you  -would  be  so 
troubled  and  teased ;  Basil  has  been  accustomed  to  trouble  all 
his  life,  his  father  -vA'as  not  good." 

"  I  feel  quite  certain  I  should  be  horribly  l)ored  ;  but  T  much 
question  if  it  is  not  the  proper  thing  for  a  lauded  proprietor  to 
do.  Queen  Meg." 

"  It  may  be,  Harold;  but  perhaps  your  people  are  different 
from  Basil's,  and  I  should  think  your  mother  would  certainly 
know  what  was  best." 

(Ah  !  sweet  jMargaret,  in  your  jealous  love  for  your  husband's 
honor,  are  you  not  pandering  to  his  besetting  sin,  indolence?) 

"  Well,  I  shall  think  it  over  while  1  stop  here,  and  at  all 
events  I  will  Avatch  Basil,  and  see  if  I  can  adopt  a  hint  or  two. 
I  believe  our  people  are  a  horrid  set ;  but  from  all  I  can  hear, 
none  are  more  lawless  than  those  about  here.  And  yet  what 
order  he  has  them  in  ;  young  as  he  is,  those  wild  forest-men 
respect  and  love  him  as  if  he  were  their  king.  He  is  never  idle 
one  moment ;  that,  I  agree,  woidd  be  too  much  for  me." 

"  O,  yes !  dear  Harold,  you  would  be  away  from  me  so 
mucli." 

"  What !  you  always  want  me  by  your  apron-strings,  do  you, 
little  wife?  I  think  it  would  be  as  well  to  absout  myself  now 
and  then,  just  to  see  how  you  would  welcome  me  back  again." 

"•  No,  no,  Harold,  I  could  not  bear  it." 

"  Well,  well,  child,  do  not  turn  pale  ;  1  dare  say  I  shall  never 
be  anything  better  than  idle  Harold  Leigh  all  my  life,  witli  no 
other  hard  work  than  to  wait  on  your  ladyship's  wishes.  But, 
Meg,  I  cannot  be  in  Lord  Eriscourl's  company  without  thinking; 
1  cannot  see  his  energy,  activity,  and  judgment,  without  asking 
myself,  Where  are  mine?  Avhat  am  1  doing?  and  I,  really,  1 
have  no  answer  to  give." 

"You  would  not  be  other  than  you  are,  my  Harold?"  said 
Margaret,  half  mournfully. 

"  Humph  I  1  am  not  SO  sure  of  that,  little  wife.  I  think  T 
could  not  have  been  formed  only  to  hunt,  shoot,  fish,  and  yawn 
through  life." 

Basil  was  studying  Harold's  character,  and  while  he  did  ftdl 
justice  to  his  frank-liearted,  generous  disposition,  and  perceived 
that  llie  image  he  liad  inherited  IVom  (lod  was  nf»ble  and  good, 
Lc  also  saw  the  mischief  tliat  had  been  done  to  that   character 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  66 

by  education.  His  education  had  been  based  on  a  false  founda- 
tion. His  duties  had  consisted  of  outward  forms  and  courtesies  : 
these  tend  to  gild  a  fine  character,  and  are  properly  the  result 
of  Christian  principles,  the  polish  of  a  self-denying,  holy  life. 

Harold  had  the  gilding,  but  it  had  been  placed  on  metal  unre- 
fined, untried  in  the  tire.  Beneath  the  gloss,  who  could  tell 
what  dwelt? 

Basil  also  saw  that  in  the  warmth  and  fervor  of  a  love  like 
Margaret's,  the  sense  that  would  have  budded  forth  with  blos- 
som, had  nothing  eclipsed  it,  was  fast  becoming  obscured  by  a 
feeling  that  amounted  to  idolatry. 

It  became  a  character  like  his  to  try  and  make  the  man  who 
had  married  the  woman  he  adored,  fit  to  be  her  husband ;  while, 
in  his  gentle,  brotherly  way,  he  endeavored  to  open  Margaret's 
eyes  to  something  besides  her  Harold. 

It  was  all  done  so  unostentatiously,  every  right  and  proper 
duty  was  placed  before  Harold  in  a  manner  so  pleasing  and  just, 
that  he  returned  to  Court  Leigh  with  the  determination  to  try 
and  be  the  worthy,  active  proprietor  of  a  landed  estate. 

Had  Margaret  encouraged  him,  the  trial  might  have  suc- 
ceeded. But  who  kuow  better  than  those  who  have  tried,  the 
difficulties  that  seem  to  arise,  like  mouutains  in  a  night,  when 
you  begin  what  may  be  considered  an  act  of  dvity  ? 

Harold  soon  got  disgusted  with  meddling,  as  his  mother  called 
it,  in  his  own  affairs.  His  steward  gave  him  no  encouragement, 
of  course ;  rather  perplexed  than  helped  him  out  of  his  sea  of 
worries.  His  mother  was  scandalized  at  such  unheard-of  con- 
duct. Margaret  was  vexed  to  see  him  worried  and  wearied, 
while  Philip  Leigh  lauglicd  at  him. 

No  wonder  then  that  Harold  relapsed  into  his  old  habits,  and 
passed  his  days  in  listless  idleness,  his  ideas  becoming  as  torpid 
as  his  body.  The  measure  of  his  disgust  at  trying  to  follow 
Basil's  example  was  completed  by  Gerald  Herbert. 

The  active  rector  of  a  long-neglected  parish,  justified  by  his 
holy  profession  to  call  alike  on  rich  and  poor  to  amend  their 
lives,  G-erald  Herbert  Avas  deterred  by  no  feeling  of  self-interest 
in  declaring  unwelcome  truths  ;  still,  with  all  his  high-souled 
zeal,^  his  pure  and  ardent  labors,  Gerald  lacked  the  gift  of  per- 
suasion. 

What  was  your  duty,  ought  to  be  done  ;  no  compromise,  no 
weak  excuses,  no  allowance  for  extra  feebleness  of  will  and  pur- 
pose. "  Yoio  ought "  and  you  "  ought  not "  formed  the  basis  of  his 
creed. 

6* 


66  margahet 

Unfllndiing,  just,  and  exact,  he  gave  no  heed  to  ■weaknesses 
he  knew  not ;  he  made  no  allowance  lor  failings  he  could  not  un- 
derstand. 

"  One  sin  makes  you  guilty  of  all,"  thus  he  argued  ;  and  his 
parishioners,  long  neglected,  and  only  now  hearing  what  was 
their  duty,  grew  faint-hearted  and  wavering  under  the  stern  and 
uncompromising  line  of  conduct  he  imposed. 

And  noiic  more  so  than  his  patron  and  their  landlord. 

Harold,  whose  heart  opened  and  whose  l)osom  expanded  at  a 
line  of  conduct  that  charmed  his  sense,  had  he  not  been  peremp- 
torily commanded  to  adopt  it,  grew  stubborn  and  irritable  mider 
his  rector's  lash.  And  Margaret  and  Millicent  sadly  learned  that 
unmitigated,  happy  intercourse  was  not  to  be  their  lot.  The  two 
gentlemen  only  met  to  quarrel ;  that  is,  Gerald  never  quarrelled, 
but  he  so  managed  to  irritate  Harold,  that  he  had  but  to  prefer 
a  request  to  have  it  refused. 

Thus  the  good  that  Gerald  would  and  could  have  done,  was 
negatived :  Harold  grew  even  more  irreligious  than  he  had 
been  ;  he  required  to  be  beguiled  into  such  feelings,  never  having 
been  taught  to  consider  it  aught  but  a  duty.  And  thus  matters 
went  on,  each  week  adding  to  the  ill  effects  of  the  last ;  Philip 
Leigh  seeing  it  all,  and  assisting  the  evil  for  purposes  of  his 
own. 

In  due  course  of  time,  as  ]\Iargaret  predicted,  she  had  a  little 
Harold ;  it  was  the  image  of  its  father. 


CHATTER    XVIII. 

"WiiKN  Margaret  had  recovered,  she  fulfdlcd  a  oncp-formod  in- 
tention, and  invited  her  schoolmates  to  pay  her  a  visit.  Au- 
gusta accepted  with  much  and  unfeii,nied  pleasure.  "  Her  heart 
and  mind  bad  been  satlly  torn  l)y  tlie  necessity  she  had  i\-h  to 
break  tlirough  the  strongest  ties  of  love,  and  separate  herself 
from  one  who  possessed  her  sole  affections,  but  of  whose  ])rinci- 
ples  and  religious  character  she  could  not  be  siitlstied.  Though 
life  was  henceforward  l)ut  a  vale  of  darkness  for  her,  slic  deenud 
it  her  duty  to  bear  up  with  fortitude  and  resignation,  and  she 
felt  that  the  society  of  her  loved  JNIargaret,  and  daily  communion 
with  the  dear  Saint  Millicent,  would   prove   the   only  balm   that 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  67 

could  soothe  her.  Lotty  accepted,  on  condition  that  her  father 
was  inchided  in  the  invitation,  and  that  a  flight  of  affectionate 
Beauvillians  might  now  and  then  be  tolerated,  in  case  they  felt 
it  impossible  to  exist  without  looking  after  their  chief  and  "  the 
girl."  Flory  and  Carry  were  abroad,  the  one  on  a  wedding 
tour,  and  the  other  accompanying  her  as  the  happy  bridesmaid. 

Lady  Katherine  much  approved  of  a  little  company  at  the 
great  house  :  it  was  time  Margaret  should  accustom  herself  to 
act  the  great  lady  ;  though  the  sight  of  her  school-fellows  would 
not  probably  impress  Margaret  with  the  necessity  of  much  as- 
sumption of  matronly  dignity. 

"  I  am  pleased,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  that  Miss  Clare 
is  coming  ;  you  will  do  well,  Georgina  and  Charlotte,  to  take 
copy  by  Miss  Clare.  Her  carriage  is  beautiful,  her  courtesy 
quite  perfection,  her  manners  blend  the  dignified  with  the  grace- 
ful. I  do  not  quite  admire  your  other  friend,  my  dear  Mar- 
garet." 

"  My  little  Lotty !  she  is  so  good.  Lady  Katherine." 

"  So  very  obliging,"  chirped  Pro. 

"  So  very  kind,"  said  Pru. 

"  Charlotte  and  Georgina,  you  are  led  away  by  appearances  ; 
I,  your  mother,  have  said  it.  Surely  the  lionored  Lady-in-wait- 
iug  of  our  good  queen  must  know  who  is  most  worthy  of  your 
notice." 

An  idea  crossed  Margaret's  mind  that  Lady  Katherine  Avas 
the  victim  to  appearances  :  but  she  had  too  great  an  opinion  of 
her  mother-in-law  to  pei'mit  such  a  fancy  to  remain  there.  Har- 
old's mother  too  !  To  the  honor  of  the  much-subdued  Pru.  and 
Pro.,  they  could  not  subscribe  in  their  hearts  to  their  mother's 
judgment  in  this  instance  ;  this  they  showed  by  being  silent  when 
Augusta  was  the  subject  of  conversation.  For  during  the  brief 
period  of  their  intercourse  at  Margaret's  Aveddiug,  Augusta  had 
made  no  secret  of  her  amusement  at  their  expense,  and  indulged 
in  various  unpalatable  remarks  about  old  maids,  and  other  mat- 
ters equally  foolish  and  absurd  ;  while  the  little  Lotty  had  proved 
their  frieud  on  all  occasions.  And  a  friend  in  need  she  was,  for 
their  meek,  secluded,  quiet  ways,  were  ill  fitted  to  cope  with 
rosy,  healthy,  happy,  intelligent  school-life. 

Besides,  she  was  so  amusing,  and  opened  to  the  view  of  the 
two  quiet  women  quite  a  new  species  of  being  in  the  world. 
Certainly  there  were  few  like  that  same  little  Lotty.  "VYild,  ca- 
pricious, wilful,  and  passionate,  who  performed  each  duty  as  she 
did?  who  thought  with  such  judgment?  who  mastered  the  most 


68  MARGARET 

abstruse  lessons  w-ith  ciisc,  "vvho  saw  Avliat  no  one  else  ever 
thought  of,  who  was  here,  there,  and  everywhere.  A  midge,  a 
myth,  a  foiry,  yet  a  Solon,  a  Norma,  a  prophetess,  —  wonderful 
Lotty  !  Well  miirht  her  mother  die  with  the  thought  in  her 
heart,  "What  Avill  be  my  little  Lotty's  fate?" 

Augusta  arrived  first  of  the  expected  guests,  and  seemed  to 
find  immc'diate  consolation  for  tlie  sorrows  of  her  wounded 
heart,  ])y  discovering  so  distinguished  and  desirable  a  gentleman 
as  Philip  Leigh  domesticated  in  the  house.  Slie  at  once  took 
possession  of  his  present  unoccupied  time,  declaring  that  his  soul 
Avas  kindred  with  hers. 

Philip  was  not  disinclined  to  the  flirtation  ;  for  besides  think- 
ing Augusta  the  handsomest  woman  he  had  seen  for  some  time, 
he  had  a  mind  to  find  out  if  INIargaret  woidd  feel  the  loss  of 
those  devoted  attentions  he  had  become  accustomed  to  pay  her. 
Augusta's  beauty  was  her  only  merit ;  his  clear  head  and  strong 
sense  saw  through  her  weak  and  vain  character  before  the  first 
evening  was  over.  So,  though  he  continued  to  amuse  himself  at 
her  expense,  it  was  merely  to  see  the  effect  of  his  experiment. 
This  reason  for  flirting  with  Augusta  soon  vanished,  for  ere 
the  end  of  the  week  Margaret,  to  his  gi*eat  disgust,  said  to 
him, — 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see,  Philip,  that  you  like  Augusta ;  it  woidd 
be  very  nice  if  you  maiTied  her  ;  I  should  like  her  to  settle  near 
us." 

Philip  rode  off  in  dudgeon,  and  shut  himself  up  at  home  in  a 
sad,  sulky  humor.  Meantime  Lotty  and  her  fine  old  father  ar- 
rived, attended  by  a  l)iotlier,  an  luicle.  and  a  kinsman.  These 
latter  meant  to  depart  imnu'diately,  but  Harold's  hos]Mtality 
would  not  permit  of  that.  It  was  hard  to  say  which  felt  the 
most  emotion,  as  Margaret  liiid  her  little  child  in  her  school- 
husband's  arms.  *" 

"  I  know  nothing  about  babies,"  said  Lotty,  trying  to  smother 
her  feelings. 

"Is  he  not  like  Harold?"  whispered  Margaret,  as  she  gazed 
lovingly  on  her  little  fhUd. 

"  I  would  rather  he  was  like  you,"  was  the  answer.  "  How- 
ever, I  suppose  I  shall  not  hurt  him  if  I  kiss  him.  There,  sir, 
go  away  ;    in  a  year  or  two  we  may  be  playfellows." 

Rcaliv  Court  Leigh  was  not  like  the  same  place  with  tlieso 
happy,  jovial,  good-hearted  r>(aii\  illiiins  in  it.  Lotty's  f'allitr 
was  an  invalid,  and  generally  remained  in  his  own  room  initil 
the    evening.      Not    that    he    was    ever   alone ;    sometimes    the 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  69 

brother,  then  the  son,  and  anon  the  kinsman  would  be  flying  np 
stairs,  with  eager  faces  and  evident  delight,  to  say  that  the 
weather  was  most  beautiful,  the  Avind  in  the  right  quarter.  This 
would  be  discussed  with  groat  spirit  and  interest.  Then  another 
would  appear  to  say,  that  at  two  o'clock  Mr.  Beauvilliers  was  to. 
be  ready  for  his  drive  ;  charioteer,  Lotty.  This  always  caused 
a  long  discussion,  how  Avell  she  drove,  who  taught  her,  and 
other  little  anecdotes  truly  Beauvillian.  Perhaps  the  news 
would  be,  that  so  many  more  flowers  had  blown,  that  all  the 
ladies  were  singing,  playing,  or  working ;  but  no  matter  what 
the  news  or  how  trivial,  from  the  hearty  jovial  way  in  which  it 
Avas  told,  it  became  interesting  enough  to  form  matter  of  history. 

In  default  of  Pliilip,  who  seemed  to  have  deserted  her,  Au- 
gusta took  forcible  possession  of  the  kinsman  Beauvilliers.  The 
son  she  heard  Avas  married,  the  uncle  too  old  ;  but  this  cousin 
seemed  a  most  suitable  stop-gap,  Philip  being  truant ;  and  he  in 
the  most  innocent  manner  fell,  as  Augusta  thought,  open-hearted 
into  the  trap.  He  Avas  rather  more  innocent  than  Augusta  cal- 
culated on  ;  for  she  found  that  unless  she  entered  Avith  warm  in- 
terest into  all  that  concerned  Lotty  and  her  father,  his  attentions 
soon  flagged.  HoAvever,  as  he  was  a  fine,  handsome  specimen 
of  the  Beauvillians,  she  put  up  Avith  a  great  deal  of  stupidity 
from  him,  and  contented  laerself  Avith  snubbing  Lotty  on  all  pri- 
vate occasions,  and  hating  her  cordially  in  her  secret  lieart. 
But  she  Avas  not  prepared  for  the  folloAving  stroke  of  ill  fortune. 

She  had  beguiled  Frank  Beauvilliers  (such  was  liis  name)  in- 
to a  charming  stroll  under  the  old  oak  avenue  ;  then  and  there 
she  determined  to  open  upon  him  the  full  battery  of  her  charms 
and  amiability.  The  engaging,  pretty  Avay  in  Avhich  she  took 
his  arm,  the  innocent,  kind  look  that  she  bestoAved  on  him  from 
those  beautiful  orbs,  might  Avell  deceive  a  stronger  mind  than 
that  belonging  to  an  open-hearted  Beauvillian.  Accordingly  he 
became  more  communicative  and  cordial  than  AA'as  usual  even 
AAdth  his  race  ;  and  said,  in  ansAver  to  a  very  kind  look,  — 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  indeed,  for  bringing  me 
here  ;  I  haA-e  something  on  my  mind,  and  you  have  been  so  kind 
and  friendly  to  me,  I  think  I  cannot  do  better  than  ask  your 
advice." 

'^  I  Avill  give  the  best  I  can  Avith  the  greatest  pleasure,"  said 
Augusta,  not  Avithout  some  wonder  :  for  though  she  thought  her 
present  loA^er  an  innocent,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  Avord,  she 
did  not  think  he  was  so  A^ery  young  as  to  be  about  to  propose, 
after  a  week's  acquaintance.  ^ 


70  MARGARET 

"  TVhat  kind  people  these  are  here,"  said  the  good  Frank, 
"  they  are  so  tlioughtful  about  Mr.  Beauvilliers  ;  Lady  Leigh 
treats  him  like  a  father,  and  he  is  as  well  taken  care  of  here  as 
at  home.  And  then  so  fond  of  Lotty :  even  the  old  grandlady 
seems  inclined  to  be  kind  to  her ;  and  as  for  the  two  Miss 
Leighs,  I  really  think  they  look  upon  Lotty  as  a  sister." 

"  Very  true,"  said  Augusta,  in  a  gi-eater  state  of  amazement 
than  ever. 

"  Do  you  know,  Miss  Clare,  I  think  I  never  met  with  kinder 
people." 

"  They  are  very  kind,  certainly,  Mr.  Frank  ;  but  what  has  that 
to  do  with  what  you  have  to  confide  to  me  ?  " 

"  Why,  jNIiss  Clare,  it  has  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it :  I  can 
assure  you,  yesterday,  when  Miss  Georgina  Leigh  was  talking  to 
me  of  Lottv,  and  describing  all  her  goodness,  her  attentions  to 
her  fatlicr,  her  love  for  her  relations,  and  then  her  sense,  her  wit, 

her  cleverness Really,   Miss  Clare,  our  girl  is  a  perfect 

wonder ;  where  she  gets  all  her  qualities  from  I  cannot  think, 
xmless  it  was  from  her  mother,  Avho  was  such  a  Avoman  !  my 
dear  Miss  Clare." 

"  But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  what  you  have  to  say  to 
me,  Mr.  Frank?"  put  in  Augusta,  impatiently. 

"  Truly  1  beg  your  ])ardon,  Miss  Clare,  1  have  wandered  from 
the  subject  certainly  ;  I  always  do  when  I  talk  of  Lotty.  How- 
ever, where  was  I  ?  O  !  to  be  sure,  just  where  Miss  Georgina 
was  talking  to  me.  Really  when  she  said  this,  all  in  that  low, 
quiet  voice  of  hers,  I  could  have  taken  her  hand  and  kissed  it ; 
I  covdd,  indeed.  Miss  Clare  !  " 

"  But  is  that  all,  Mr.  Frank,  you  had  to  commimicate  ?" 

"  xSo,  not  quite,  Miss  Clare.  I  wished  just  to  ask  your  advice  ; 
as  a  friend  of  the  family,  you  will  perhaps  be  able  to  tell  me  if 
they  would  be  affronted,  if  they  would  tako  it  amiss,  my  just 
telling  them  my  opinion." 

"  Of  whom,  and  what,  sir?"  said  Augusta,  getting  heartily 
sick  of  her  companion. 

"  Of  iNIiss  Georgina,  IVIiss  Clare.  I  should  like  lo  propose  for 
her,  she  is  so  fond  of  our  Lotty  ;  really  1  should  like  to  do  some- 
thing to  show  ray  sincere  gratitude  ;  and  if  Miss  Georgina  would 
but  consent  to  be  my  wife,  I  would  make  her  ha])i)iiiess " 

But  Augusta  liad  fled,  from  what  c-iuse  the  innocent  Bcanvil- 
lian  coulil  not  surmise.  Perhaps  it  was  the  heat,  perhaps  a  bee 
had  stung  lur,  and  she  did  nf)t  like  to  inform  him  ;  jx-rliaps  she 
had  seen  some  one  she  knew  in  (he  distance.     At  any  rate,  the 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  71 

worthy  Frank  ooly  wondered  at  her  flight,  so  long  as  he  was  du- 
■  bious  whom  he  should  select  as  her  successor  in  his  confidence. 
At  first  he  thought  it  should  be  the  next  person  he  met.  Then 
it  occurred  to  him,  it  would  be  but  right  towards  his  chieftain  to 
consult  him  ;  for  he  felt  sure  Mr.  Beauvilliers  would  be  as 
anxious  as  he  was  himself,  that  none  of  them  should  entertain 
ideas  or  wishes  that  could  not  instantly  be  made  known  to  the 
family.  ^  In  fact,  as  a  point  of  honor,  Mr.  Frank  felt  that  he 
must  dismiss  the  amiable  Georgiua  from  his  thoughts,  until  he 
had  fully  and  thoroughly  informed  her  family  of  his  feelings 
towards  her. 

Mr.  Beauvilliers  proved  a  much  more  efficient  confidant  than 
Augusta.  He  not  only  listened  all  through  with  great  attention, 
but  joined  heartily  and  cordially  in  all  the  digressions  on  the  vir- 
tues and  extraordinary  sense  of  "  the  girl ;  "  and  when  the  com- 
munication was  supposed  to  be  fully  detailed,  he  was  quite  ready 
to  listen  to  it  all  over  again. 

He  duly  appreciated  Mr.  Frank's  first  motive  for  bestowing 
his  alFections  on  the  amiable  and  Lotty-loviug  Georgina  :  and 
nothing  now  remained  but  to  call  in  the  Beauvillians,  uncle  and 
sou,  to  participate  in  the  confidence. 

They  both  fully  entered  into  the  matter  ;  applauded  Mr.  Frank, 
and  were  quite  jovial  over  the  expedition  with  which  he  had 
fallen  into  love,  but  suggested  no  great  improvements  in  the 
manner  of  proceeding  in  this  delicate  matter. 

So  Lotty  was  sent  for ;  and  as  they  all  had  anticipated,  and 
told  each  other  it  would  be,  she  hit  upon  the  right  plan  in  a  mo- 
ment ;  moreover  she  Avas  highly  pleased,  and  so  praised  Mr. 
Frank  for  his  judgment  and  discernment,  that  he  quite  blushed. 
Acting  under  Lotty's  advice,  the  party  proceeded  to  Lady 
Katherine's,  and  having  told  what  appeared  to  be  the  united 
Avishes  of  the  party,  asked  leave  for  Mr.  Frank  to  endeavor  to 
make  himself  agreeable  to  Miss  Georgina. 

Now  many  mothers,  with  two  daughters  verging  on  thirty 
years  of  age,  who  had  never  had  an  offer  in  their  lives,  and  only 
that  little  episode  of  the  curate,  nipped  peremptorily  in  the  bud, 
as  the  nearest  approach  to  a  love  affair,  would  have  accepted  at 
once,  and  in  haste,  this  unexpected,  most  sudden  sort  of  love-at- 
first-sight  offer. 

Not  so  Lady  Katherine  ;  she  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  she 
was  thirty  herself  before  she  thought  of  such  things,  and  never 
dreamed  that  her  daughters  would  be  so  unmannerly  as  not  to  fol- 
low her  example.     But  she  was  very  gi-acious,  and  treated  them 


72  MARGARET 

to  a  series  of  court  anecdotes,  which  might  have  begun  in  matri- 
mony, but  certainly  did  not  end  in  it  ;  they  seemed  also  likely, 
by  their  length  and  repetition,  to  extend  the  interview  to  mid- 
night. 

Luckily  the  dressing-bell  reminded  her  that  other  matters 
miirht  demand  their  attention  besides  listening  to  her.  All  Mr. 
Frank's  private  atfairs  were  laid  before  her,  and  as  they  pro\ed 
very  satisfactory,  he  had  permission  given  him  to  try  and  Avin 
Miss  Georgina's  atFections.  "  But  on  no  account,"  said  Lady 
Ivatheriue,  "  be  prc'cipitatc  —  the  dear  young  creature  nuist  not 
be  prematurely  alarmed  ;  he  had  known  lier  but  a  Aveck,  so  she 
should  Avish  that  a  more  lengtiiened  period  might  elapse  before 
he  made  his  proposals  in  due  form  ;  etiquette  demanded  it."  Mr. 
Frank  scrupulously  obeyed  Lady  Katheriue's  comnuiud,  and  said 
nothins-  of  love  to  the  amiable  Pro.  :  but  his  Beauvilliau  descent 
made  it  impossible  for  liim  not  to  betray  his  Avishes  to  every  per- 
son in  and  around  tlie  place,  save  the  gentle  object  of  his  affec- 
tions ;  everybody  knew  it,  everybody  Avas  consulted,  and  every- 
body helped  him  in  his  courtship,  until  he,  in  the  gratitude  of 
his  heart,  Avished  he  could  have  married  them  all. 

Pro.  Avoudered  at  his  attentio;is,  but  said  nothing,  only  to  the 
mischievous  Lotty  she  might  say,  "  Your  cousin,  ]Mr.  Frank,  is 
a  most  agreeable  man,  he  has  very  fine  eyes,  something  like 
yours,  dear  Lotty." 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

PniLrp  Lktoit  had  uoav  been  shut  up  for  about  a  fortnight, 
that  is,  he  had  shut  liimself  up.  The  dark  spirit  a\  as  upon  iiim. 
He  was  disgusted  Avith  himself,  and  everything  around  him.  He 
could  not  understand  Lady  Leigh's  character,  it  Avas  an  enigma 
to  him  ;  he  Avas  acting  like  a  ])erson  in  the  dark  ;  he,  Avhosc  in- 
tellect conunauded  anything,  Avas  he  to  be  foiled  by  such  simpli- 
city as  hers? 

And  yet  what  Avas  the  use  of  his  AA'caring  himself  to  death  for 
nothing?  two  healthy  lives,  each  likely  to  be  longer  than  his, 
stood  betAveen  him  and  his  long-wished-for  title.  AVliy  need  he 
tease  and  Avorry  himself  about  a  thing  he  could  not  prevent  ? 
Why  I  indeed:  but  it  had  grown  into  a  habit;  it  had  become 
aecond  ualui'c,  amounting  almost  to  monomania. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  73 

He  was  growing  tired  of  himself  and  his  thoughts,  they  were 
so  mean  and  contemptible  ;  but  where  was  he  to  go  ?  what  was 
he  to  do  ?  There  was  no  amusement  in  flirting  with  Miss  Clare. 
Like  a  moth  hurrjang  around  a  candle,  she  would  only  flutter 
about  him  to  her  own  detriment ;  for  as  to  marrying  a  woman  of 
that  stamp,  why,  he  would  sooner  quit  the  world  at  once,  no 
matter  how.  As  he  meditated  in  this  desultory  way,  Philip 
heard  shrieks,  prolonged  and  shrill. 

A  few  bounds  brought  him  to  his  own  entrance  gate,  where 
was  chained  a  large  bloodhound.  Supported  by  a  young  girl,  was 
the  lady  of  his  late  thoughts,  Miss  Clare,  and  from  her  ruby  lips 
came  the  fearful  shrieks. 

"Miss  Clare,  my  dear  Miss  Clare  !  what  is  the  matter?"  he 
cried. 

"  The  dog,  O  !  that  fearful  dog  !  "  screamed  Augusta. 

"  Hush?  "  said  her  companion,  "  do  you  not  see  the  hound  is 
chained  up  ?  " 

The  speaker  was  shaded  from  Philip's  sight  by  a  large  hat ; 
she  was  also  half  smothered  by  Augusta's  larger,  fuller  figure. 

"  Come,  Miss  Clare,  be  pacified  ;  as  your  little  friend  says,  the 
hound  is  chained  up,"  said  Philip. 

"  Will  you  protect  me?"  gasped  Augusta. 

"  Certainly  !  take  my  arm." 

"  But  I  am  so  faint  and  ill." 

"  Can  you  walk  as  far  as  my  house?" 

"  What !  and  pass  that  savage  beast !      O  !  never." 

"  Come,  Augusta,  don't  be  foolish,"  said  her  companion,  pet- 
tishly ;   "  as  if  a  dog  like  that  Avould  harm  you." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Pliilip,  "  Miss  Clare  is  so  far  right, 
the  dog  is  a  very  savage  one  ;  but  he  cannot  harm  her  now, 
being  securely  chained." 

"  A  hound  like  that  is  only  dangerous  when  chained  up,"  said 
the  straw  hat ;  "  if  suffered  to  be  at  large,  he  would  be  more 
gentle  than  a  lap-dog." 

"  You  are  mad  !  child,"  said  Augusta,  "  talking  in  that  foolish 
way  ;  such  a  beast  would  tear  you  limb  from  limb." 

"  It  is  not  safe,  I  believe,  to  go  near  him,"  said  Philip. 

As  he  spoke  the  little  girlish  figure  walked  straight  up  to  the 
hound,  and  patting  him  on  the  head,  stood  leaning  against  him. 
Then,  taking  off  her  hat,  she  put  it  playfully  on  the  dog's  head, 
Avhile  she  ran  her  little  white  fingers  through  her  dark  curls  ; 
and  as  they  divided  Avith  the  touch,  Philip  saw  for  the  first  time 
Charlotte  Beauvilliers. 
7 


74  MARGARET 

He  deemed  her  some  rare,  old  picture,  descended  from  its 
frame,  ■walkiag  about  the  world  to  show  what  unstudied  beauty 
was. 

Lotty  certainly  was  very  pe^^7e  ;  though  the  Beauvillians  had 
assured  each  other  she  would  grow,  yet  she  only  did  a  very  little. 

But  it  was  !?uch  a  pretty,  little,  light,  elastic  figure,  so  rounded 
and  well-proportioned,  so  supple  and  graceful ;  the  little,  lovely 
throat  so  stately  and  erect,  and  shown  to  such  advantage  by  the 
small,  well-folded  down  white  collar. 

Lotty  had  the  Beauvillian  mouth  and  nose,  the  latter  bending 
down  with  a  slight  approach  to  a  IJoman  nose,  meeting  the  shoi-t 
upper  lip  with  a  curve  to  match  ;  both  seemed  to  be  in  perfect 
keeping  with  the  full  rosy  lip  below  —  putting  the  gazer  in  mind 
of  the  pictures  of  Sir  Jot^hua  Reynolds's  children,  but  without  their 
archness  ;  for  Avhile  in  his  pictures  the  pointed  chin  seemed  but 
the  continuation  of  the  curved  mouth  and  nose,  Lotty's  was  full 
and  roinid,  giving  a  decision  and  firmness  to  her  couutenance, 
that  the  upper  part  of  her  face  fully  bore  out. 

Clear,  brilliant  eyes,  without  a  shadow  in  them,  looked  full  at 
Philip.  No  ti'iumph,  no  exultation  in  them,  merely  the  calm, 
searching  gaze  of  an  intelligent  mind. 

He  stood  transfixed,  at  a  loss  what  to  say  ;  but  his  whole 
heart  occupied  in  looking  at  the  picture  before  him.  The  beau- 
tiful, dark  bloodhound,  and  the  white  robed,  childish  figure,  how 
lovely  they  looked,  thus  grouped  together. 

"  Now,  Augusta,  you  (?an  pass  ;  I  will  keep  the  dog  quiet  as 
you  go  by,"  said  Lotty  at  last. 

"  You  will  be  killed,  you  foolish  child  I  and  you  will  be  rightly 
served,"  was  Augusta's  answer. 

Lotty  put  her  hand  under  the  hound's  mouth,  and  lifting  it  up, 
looked  steadily  into  the  deep-set  eyes  ;  then  putting  her  lips  to 
his  shaggy  forehead,  she  laughed,  and  said,  — 

"  He  is  as  (piiet  as  an  old  sheep." 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  said  Philip, .at  last,  "  the  power  you  seem 
to  have  over  hint  ;  he  is  generally  a  most  savage  animal." 

"That  is  because  you  chain  liini  up;  if  lie  was  my  dog  he 
should  be  as  free  as  air,  poor  felhjw  I " 

"  AVill  you  accept  him?  you  will  oblige  me  much  if  you  will 
allow  me  the  [)leasure  of  ju'esenting  him  to  you." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  him  very  nuuih,"  said  Lotty,  frankly  ; 
*'  he  is  the  most  splendid  fellow  I  ever  saw  ;  he  seems  quite 
young  too,  and  has  not  lost  his  puppy  coal." 

"  1  sluiU  be  delighteil  to  give  so  line  an  animal  to  one  so 
worthy  to  possess  him,"  was  the  courteous  reply. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  75 

"  Then  I  may  loose  him?  " 

"  0  !  dou't ;  don't  for  mercy's  sake  !  "  said  Augusta  ;  "I  shall 
die  if  you  do  !  " 

"  Pray,  Miss  Clare,  come  up  to  my  small  abode,  and  have 
some  restoratives  after  your  long  walk  and  alarm.  Then,  while 
you  are  resting,  the  hound  can  be  loosed,  and  get  over  his  first 
transports  before  you  return." 

"  But  what  is  his  name?  "  asked  the  new  possessor. 

"  Bear,"  said  Philip. 

"  Bear  !  "  repeated  Lotty,  rather  confusedly. 

"  Ah  !  what  a  good  name,"  said  Augusta  ;  "  it  is  her  own,  Mr. 
Leigh,  great  Bear  and  little  Bear." 

"  I  cannot  conceive  how  your  young  friend  can  deserve  such  a 
name  as  Bear." 

"  O  !  but  she  does,  and  I  will  prove  it  to  you  as  we  walk  to 
your  house.     Come,  little  Bear." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  I  am  not  fatigued,  and  want  no  refresh- 
ment ;  I  shall  stay  here  and  make  acquaintance  with  my  new 
friend ;  "  and  turning  to  Philip,  "  I  thank  you,  sir,  very  much 
for  such  a  gift ;  I  shall  value  it  highly,  and  you  may  rest  assured 
I  will  be  a  kind  mistress  to  him,  though  at  present  I  must  ask 
you  for  a  small  switch,  as  he  might  prove  too  rough  in  his  first 
use  of  liberty." 

"  I  do  not  like  to  leave  you  quite  alone  with  him,"  said  Philip. 
"  I  will  return  shortly,  when  I  have  pjaced  Miss  Clare  in  the 
hands  of  my  housekeeper." 

When  Philip  returned,  the  great  Bear  was  loose,  indulging  in 
the  wildest  gambols,  and  the  little  Bear  was  standing  on  a  great 
stone,  watching  him  with  delight.  Philip  stood  and  looked  at 
her,  without  her  being  conscious  of  his  return. 

"  Bear  !  Bear  !  "  she  cried.  The  hound  bounded  towards  her. 
"  Down,  Bear,  down  !  no  rudeness,  you  beautiful  fellow  !  kiss 
me.  Bear  !  now  be  good  and  be  oif  again." 

"  Bear!  Bear!  "  again  she  cried.  This  time  he  was  disobe- 
dient, and  she  stamped  her  little  foot  and  shook  her  little  switch, 
calling  "  Bear,"  in  a  peremptory  manner,  until  he  came  slowly 
and  deprecatingly,  his  loving  eyes  glancing  furtively  at  the  little 
switch,  the  little  hand,  the  little  childish  figure.  "  Naughty 
Bear  !  disobedient !  go,  Lotty  does  not  love  you." 

Philip  could  have  watched  her  for  hours  ;  the  quick  grace  of 
her  movements,  the  sweet  thrilling  voice,  the  beautiful  healthful 
face,  glowing  and  happy,  and  her  dress  so  picturesque  and  quaint. 
The  large  hat  with  its  long  drooping  white  feather,  the  cool 


76  5IARGARET 

dress  with  its  little  tijrlit  fitting  jacket,  showius:  the  white  plaited 
cliemisette  and  round  collar,  the  dainty  little  hoots  ;  she  was  a 
perfect  picture. 

"  Well,  liave  you  made  Bear  pretty  ohedient  'i  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  Do  you  know,  I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
you,  for  I  has  e  lung  AvantiMl  a  dog  like  this  ;  are  you  quite  certain 
you  can  part  with  Iiini  willingly?  " 

"  Quite  certain  to  you  ;  hut  pray  may  I  ask  the  name  of  the 
fortunate  Bear's  mistress?" 

"  You  heard  Miss  Clare  call  me  Bear  too." 

"  But  I  presume  I  may  not  call  you  Miss  Bear?  " 

"  Yt.u  are  welcome  to  do  so  if  you  wish  it  :  but  now  we  must 
return  home,  having  a  long  way  to  walk." 

"Miss  Clare  says  she  is  too  nuich  fatigued  to  walk  back.  I 
liave  therefore  offered  to  drive  her  to  Court  Leigh.  Will  you 
also  favor  me  with  your  company.  Miss  Bear?  " 

"  Ah,  I  knew  very  well  when  she  asked  me  this  morning  to 
take  a  long  walk,  she  would  never  be  able  to  accomplish  it ; 
however,  come  she  would  :  I  suppose  she  had  a  pui-jiose.  Per- 
liaps  it  was  to  see  you,  as  you  seem  old  friends." 

"  I  do  not  presume  to  think  so,  Miss  Bear,  I  assure  you  ;  but 
will  you  not  return  with  me  to  the  house  ?  " 

''  No,  I  thank  you,  I  walked  here  and  can  walk  back.  Good 
morning,  and  thank  you.      Come,  Bear." 

And  lufore  l*liilip  couhl  say  anf»fher  word,  the  great  Bear  and 
the  little  Bear  were  careering  along  the  meadows,  utterly  regard- 
less that  they  were  leaving  tlie  conqiany  of  tlu'  handsome,  witty, 
talented,  courlftl  I'iiilip  Leigii  ;  for  auglit  they  seemed  to  care,  he 
might  have  been  ugly,  stupid,  and  a  grandfather. 


Cll  A  1'  r  !•:  li     X  X  . 

Piiii.ti"  endeavored  to  elicit  something  from  Miss  Clare,  on 
tlirir  drive  home,  regarding  her  little  eompaiiion.  "Wlio  is  the 
child  that  was  willi  you?"  said  he,  lie  saw  into  llie  depths  of 
Augustii's  heart  as  well  as  thoiiirh  he  were  there,  and  knew  that 
he  nhoiild  gain  no  information  if  he  showed  -,\\\y  greal  interest  in 
the  matter. 

"  O  I  little  Bear  ;  she  is  a  .sort  of  school-fellow  of  mine." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  77 

"  And  what  is  her  name,  and  how  came  such  a  little  uncon- 
genial companion  with  you,  Miss  Clare  ?  " 

"  Yes,  is  she  not  a  little  absurdity?  Poor  child!  I  believe 
she  has  been  badly  brought  up,  or,  at  all  events,  has  no  mother, 
only  tribes  of  male  relations,  and  they  have  made  a  little  groom 
of  her." 

"  I  dare  say  she  will  be  passable-looking  when  she  grows  up." 
Philip  privately  thought  her  the  prettiest  body  he  had  ever  seen. 

"  I  believe  she  is  grown  up ;  at  all  events  she  has  left 
school." 

"  Where  is  she  abiding  now,  that  you  happened  to  be  in  her 
company  ?  " 

"  O,  she  is  a  wonderful  friend  of  Margaret's.  How  it  hap- 
pened I  don't  know,  but  they  have  sworn  a  never-to-die  friend- 
ship, and  they  are  as  unlike  each  other  as  I  am  perhaps." 

Here  Augusta  looked  bewitchingly  at  Philip,  who  answered 
as  was  expected,  —  "  Like  you.  Miss  Clai-e  !  pray  what  possible 
thing  on  earth  can  be  likened  to  you  ?  " 

Then  followed  sundry  little  interesting  passages  in  the  true  art 
of  flirting,  which  cannot  be  described,  as  the  initiated  know  that 
words  are  not  so  expressive  as  looks  on  such  occasions. 

However,  Philip  having  done  what  he  considered  his  duty, 
continued,  —  "  \Vliat  is  the  name  of  your  little  friend?" 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Augusta,  pettishly,  "  how  much  you  seem 
interested  about  that  girl :  her  name  is  Lotty,  and  she  is  staying 
at  Court  Leigh  with  her  father,  and  some  rough  uncouth  sorts 
of  men  relations.  If  you  stay  to  dinner  —  and  you  are  sure  to 
be  asked  —  you  will  learn  all  about  this  pet  of  yours.  But  I 
know  you  won't  stay  to  dinner,  just  to  provoke  me.  I  declare, 
if  I  am  to  be  moped  to  death,  as  I  have  been  for  the  last  fort- 
night, I  shall  go  home." 

"  Ah  !  Miss  Clare,  pray  don't  darken  our  hemisphere  by  such 
a  thought.  Now  that  we  have  seen  the  sun,  can  we  exist  should 
it  leave  us  ?  " 

Philip  continued  in  this  strain  until  the  drive  came  to  an  end, 
mentally  resolving  to  indemnify  himself  by  staying  to  dinner  if 
he  were  asked.  Though  he  did  not  suppose  the  little  school-girl 
♦'  Bear "  would  appear  in  full  company,  he  thought  he  might 
chance  to  get  a  glimpse  of  her  in  the  evening. 

The  quiet  coolness  with  which   she  had  walked  up  to  the 

hound  in  spite  of  his  warning,  the  unsophisticated  delight  with 

which  she  had  taken  possession  of  Bear,  without  fear,  without 

nonsense  of  any  kind,  just  suited  his  taste.     "  I  wish  the  child 

7* 


78  MARGARET 

was  fx  little  older,"  thou<;ht  he.  There  would  bo  some  pleasure 
iu  bending  that  little  iudomiluble  spirit  to  one's  will ;  making 
Buch  a  little  wilful  thing  iu  love  with  one.  Unlike  some  one 
who  .«hall  bi'  iianieless,  but  who  is  unfortunately  dose  by  at  pre- 
eent,  unlike  thi-  luvcly,  lovesick  Margaret,  milike  the  gentle, 
quiet  Milliocnt.  The  first,  did  I  marry  her,  I  should  beat  in  a 
week  ;  the  second  would  pall  me  with  sweetness  ;  the  third,  I 
should  respect  and  admire,  but  wicked  human  nature  like  mine 
is  not  given  to  love  such  saintlike  goodness." 

I'hili])  Leigh  was  warmly  welcomed  back  again,  and  woidd 
have  been  forcibly  detained  to  dinner,  had  he  not  already  con- 
sented to  remain. 

As  all  were  assembled  for  dinner,  Philip  stood,  his  fine  figure 
erect,  his  handsome  face,  culm  and  proud,  -witii  the  (piiet  disdain 
in  iiis  diwk  eyes  that  was  usual  there.  He  had  been  introduced 
to  three  Mr.  Beauvilliers,  all  bearing  their  honest,  kind  natures 
in  their  countenances  and  appearance. 

He  was  watching  the  amiable  goodness  Avith  Avhich  one  of 
them  was  devoting  himself  to  the  amusement  of  Pro.,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  unmistakably  a  fourth  ISIr.  Beauvilliers 
appeared.  The  likeness  to  the  others  was  palpable  ;  though  an 
aged  and  white-haired  man,  they  seemed  but  as  .shadows  in  his 
presence  ;  for  a  more  magnificent  specimen  of  a  fine  old  English 
gentleman  I'hilip  had  never  seen.  And  leaning  his  large, 
powerful  hand  on  tlic  dimpled  shoulder  of  a  little  figure  by  his 
side,  IMiilij)  could  scarcely  believe,  at  first,  that  he  saw  before 
him  the  little  Bear,  and  the  occupier  of  his  thoughts. 

"  Miss  Beauvilliers  and  ]\Ir.  Beauvilliers,"  said  Harold,  intro- 
ducing them  ;  "  my  cousin,  Philip  Leigh." 

It  was  a  habit  of  the  Beauvillians  always  to  shake  hands  on 
an  introduction,  a  good  hearty  shake  ;  and  l*liilip's  hand  was  in 
that  jiowerfid  gr;isp,  without  his  having  withdrawn  his  eyes 
Irom  tlie  little  fairy  figure. 

"  You  are  the  gentleman  who  has  been  so  kind  as  to  give  my 
Lotty  a  very  valual)le  present.  Tliank  ye,  sir,  thank  ye  ;  shake 
liancls,  Lotty,  and  let  me  hear  you  say  thank  ye,  too,"  said  her 
father. 

Lotty  laid  her  little  tiny  hand  for  a  moment  in  Piiilip's,  who 
coulil  hardly  believe  he  lield  anything,  after  her  father's  gigantic 
grasp.  Then  saying,  in  a  soft,  but  clear  voicu',  "  'I'liank  you, 
Mr.  L(!igh,"  she  put  the  great  hand  on  lier  shoulder  again,  and 
guided  her  father's  feeble  feet  to  a  large  chair  iu  the  window. 
There  was  no  look  of  the  chil<i  about  her  now. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  79 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Philip,  after  dinner,  when  he  had  con- 
trived to  get  a  seat  near  her,  "  I  took  you  for  a  little  girl." 

"  I  suppose  no  one  would  consider  me  a  big  one,"  answered 
Lotty. 

"  I  mean,"  said  Philip,  rather  put  out  by  her  ansAver,  "  that 
I  really  thought  you  were  a  child.  If  I  had  known  that  you 
were  Miss  Beauvilliers,  I  should  have  treated  you  with  greater 
respect." 

"  And  ought  not  children  to  have  polite  treatment  as  well  as 
ladies  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  certainly  they  ought ;  but  Miss  Clare  so 
puzzled  me  about  you,  I  fear  I  ran  into  great  mistakes,  and 
must  beg  you  will  grant  me  forgiveness." 

"  If  I  find  no  fault,  I  do  not  see  Avhy  you  need  be  peni- 
tent." 

"  I  will  forgive  myself,  then,  for  having  fallen  into  such  an 
error.  But  permit  me  to  ask,  did  you  reach  home  in  safety? 
did  Bear  behave  as  so  noble  a  dog  should,  transferred  to  such 
lovely  hands  ?  " 

"  We  arrived  in  safety,  and  I  make  no  doubt  Bear  will 
be  much  happier  with  me  than  you,  for  he  will  have  his 
liberty." 

"  You  have  been  here  a  fortnight,  have  you  not?  and  I  never 
knew  it ;  what  a  dolt  I  have  been,"  said  Philip. 

"  Perhaps  so.  But  I  do  not  know  you  sufficiently  well  to 
assent  to  your  judgment  as  yet,"  replied  Lotty. 

"  Surely  you  can  see  that  I  consider  myself  a  dolt,  for  having 
deprived  myself,  for  one  whole  fortnight,  of  an  introduction  to 
you,"  continued  Philip,  trying  his  usual  style  of  conversation 
with  Augusta. 

"  I  think  it  was  unlucky  for  Bear  ;  but  as  for  you  and  I,  I  do 
not  suppose  we  shall  care  for  each  other  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight, 
more  than  we  do  now." 

"  Nay,  Miss  Beauvilliers,  you  ai-e  unkind  to  me.  May  I  not 
look  forward  to  being  favored  with  your  esteem,  and  then  per- 
haps regard,  if  I  prove  worthy  of  such  friendship?" 

Those  large,  clear,  brilliant  eyes  looked  full  into  his.  The 
scrutiny  seemed  satisfactory. 

"  I  am  not  likely  to  think  with  indifference  of  the  person  who 
has  given  me  so  great  a  pleasure  as  the  possession  of  Bear.  But 
here  is  my  father  coming,  and  Miss  Clare  has  been  looking  at 
you  for  the  last  hour,  wondering  how  you  can  prefer  such  child- 
ish company  to  hers." 


80  MARGARET 

She  was  at  the  door  ere  lie  could  stop  her.  It  opened,  Mr. 
Beauvilliers  was  there  as  she  said.  "  Ah,  my  darling  !  "  the 
fond  father  eriod,  ''  as  usual,  always  ready.  1  came  so  quietly  ; 
but  no.  I  cannot  move,  but  my  Lotty  hears."  The  massive 
liand  U-aned  on  the  little,  slight  girl,  and  when  ])laccd  in  his 
chair,  with  Lotty  on  the  arm  of  it,  Thilip  saw  he  could  hope  for 
no  further  word  from  the  little  Bear ;  so  he  talketTto  Augusta, 
and  looked  at  Lotty,  and  was  not  unhappy. 

It  was  a  sight  to  see  the  father  and  daughter  together.  Lotty 
seemed  to  feel  intuitively  when  her  father  wanted  his  cushions 
changed,  wliich  fuot  he  would  like  placed  on  the  footstool,  what 
subject  he  most  affected  to  converse  upon  ;  while  at  no  time  did 
the  line,  massive  old  frame  move,  but  the  large  hand  rested  on 
the  slight  figure,  sometimes  on  the  round  little  ivory  shoulder, 
sometimes  on  the  rich  waving  curls,  but  at  all  times  it  felt  its 
treasure  witliin  its  grasp. 

There  sat  Lotty  like  a  little  queen,  her  radiant  eyes  speaking 
straight  into  the  heart  —  "  I  know  my  duty,  and  I  love  it,  and 
fulfil  it ; "  and  the  loving  Beauvillians  would  sit  round,  and  pay 
her  the  homage  she  deserved. 

And  they  seemed  to  have  brought  the  blessing  of  their  fine 
frank  natures  on  the  dull  old  house  of  Court  Leigh,  Harold 
was  no  longer  morose  or  mdiappy,  or  inclined  to  quarrel  with 
Gerald  ;  ^largaret  was  as  beaming  and  smiling  as  the  haj)piest 
wife  and  mother  could  be.  Lady  Katherine  stepped  Ibrth  from 
out  of  her  courtly  state  manners,  in  a  way  quite  astonishing  to 
those  who  knew  her.  The  ice  of  reserve  and  etiquette  was 
thawing  under  the  genial  glow  of  the  Beauvilliers. 

As  for  Pru.  and  Pro.,  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  they  felt 
young;  and  when  Bru.  (having  had  that  little  curate  experi- 
ence, several  times  mcntitjned  before)  suggested  to  l*ro.,  that 
^Ir.  Frank  really  seemed  very  ]i;irii(ular  in  his  attentions;  the 
gentle  Pro.  bluslied,  and  the  l)hish  remained  on  her  somewhat 
faded  cheek,  gi\  ing  her  so  pretty  a  bloom,  that  Mr.  Frank  grew 
quite  rampant  for  the  days  of  his  prf)bation  to  be  over. 

Gerald's  uncompromising  sternness  gave  way  before  the 
heartv  good  will  of  the  Beauvilliers. 

'•  >Sly  drar  sir,"  said  the  fine  old  sfpiire,  when  GeraM,  in  tlic 
flush  of  his  anxious  heart,  to  do  good  to  all  who  came  in  his 
way,  ofj'ered  to  read  ai\d  talk  daily  with  him  —  (for  the  days  of 
this  a>:ed  pilgrim  were  numbered,  as  he  himself  knew  full  well) 
—  "  My  dear  sir,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  At  my  age, 
with  the  seeds  of  a  mortal  disease  within  me,  it  does  not  become 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  81 

me  to  inquire  into  any  new  creed,  or  way  of  worshipping  God. 
I  ask  myself,  Have  I  done  ray  duty  well?  and  I  can  only 
answer,  To  the  best  of  my  ability,  I  have  tried." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  you  must  confess  before  God  that  you  are 
a  miserable,  blind,  poor,  lost  sinner.  Do  you  feel  the  need  of 
a  Saviour  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  feel  the  need.  I  feel  I  have  him  ;  God  be  thanked 
for  the  peace  and  calm  of  my  closing  years." 

"  That,  I  am  afraid,  is  not  sufficient.  We  must  purge  out 
the  old  man  with  fasting,  prayer,  and  penitence  ;  we  must  not 
leave  a  single  sin  unexposed,  unconfessed.  Ah  !  my  dear  sir, 
think  of  the  beatitude  of  such  a  state  of  sinless  repose." 

"  Every  man,  my  dear  Mr.  Herbert,  must  not  expect  such 
a  lot,  or  where  would  be  the  need  of  the  Saviour?  I  am  apt 
to  think  now,  at  the  end  of  the  days  of  my  pilgrimage,  that 
this,  our  state,  is  not  so  much  to  attain  perfection,  as  to  work 
the  daily  task  of  human  life,  by  which  we  may  be  rewarded 
with  perfection." 

"  I  see  what  you  mean,  Mr.  Beauvilliers  ;  but  such  an  error 
is  dangerous,  most  dangerous." 

"  It  will  be  dangerous  for  my  father  to  sit  here  any  longer  in 
this  draught,  Gerald,"  would  Lotty  say  ;  "  so  while  I  take  him 
into  the  house,  go  and  preach  to  Augusta,  or  some  other  great 
sinner." 

Then  would  Gerald  look  grave,  and  perhaps  rebuke  Lotty 
for  being  flippant,  who  would  answer  gravely  back  again,  — 

"  I  am  ready  to  confess,  and  be  sorry." 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

Mr.  Frank's  days  of  probation  were  over.  Lady  Katherine 
having  graciously  condescended  to  say  that  the  time  deemed  fit 
by  propriety,  decorum,  and  courtly  example,  being  fulfilled,  he 
was  at  liberty  to  make  his  proposals  to  Miss  Georgina  herself. 
And  in  furtherance  of  such  object,  she  said  to  the  astonished 
Pro.,— 

"  Get  your  parasol,  and  take  a  turn  with  Mr.  Frank  under 
the  walnut  trees." 

Certainly  this  was  rather  a  public  place  for  such  a  circum- 


82  MARGARET 

Stance,  inasmuch  as  the  avenue  was  commanded  from  every 
■window  in  her  house,  as  welh  as  those  of  Court  Lcigli. 

I'ro.  never  dreamt  of  disobeyinjr,  and  Mr.  Frank,  ibrtified 
with  various  powerful  shakes  of  the  hand  from  his  kinsmcTi, 
and  many  good  wishes  for  his  success,  departed  with  ihe  ami- 
able object  of  his  affections  at  a  decorous  distance  from  his 
side. 

Most  men  would  have  been  nervous  had  they  supposed  them- 
selves to  be  under  the  surveillance  of  many  curious  eyes  (though 
no  words  coidd  be  heard),  in  such  delicate  circumstances;  but 
it  was  a  peculiarity  of  the  Beauvilliaus  that  they  couhl  do  noth- 
ing in  secret  or  alone.  Therefore,  Mr.  Frank  tliought  with 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  of  the  eager  and  anxious  Beauvillian 
eyes  that  would  be  scanning  his  every  action,  as  he  took  this 
eventful  walk. 

Lady  Kutherine  also  took  her  station  at  her  window,  that  she 
might  be  able  to  judge  with  her  own  eyes  that  the  proposal  was 
made  and  accepted  according  to  the  strictest  rules  of  etiquette. 
Pro.  herself  was  the  only  unconscious  person  in  all  these  base 
plots,  and  went,  perhaps  a  little  fluttered,  but  quite  an  innocent 
victim  to  her  destiny. 

They  walk  about  a  yard  apart. 

Mr.  Frank  bows. 

•'  lie  is  beginning,"  say  the  eager  Beauvillians.  from  their 
windows. 

"  Very  respectful,"  thinks  Lady  Kathcrine,  from  her  window. 

Pro.  starts,  and  Mr.  Frank  ])ows  lower. 

'•  lie  is  in  full  cry."  exclaim  his  sympatlietic  kinsmen. 

"  Poor  child !  how  fluttered  she  will  be,"  murmurs  Lady 
Katherine. 

Pro.  stops  short,  tiien  starts  again,  as  if  about  to  run  away. 
Mr.  Frank  j)]aces  himsell"  lielbre  iier,  and  bows  lower  than  ever. 

"He  is  well   <iii  the  scent,"  cry  the  Beauvillian  windows. 

"  I  almost  think  lie  is  at  this  moment  proposing,"  says  the 
other  window. 

Pro.  drops  her  parasol,  and  attempts  to  grasp  at  it.  Mr. 
Frank    lakes  the  extended  hand   in   his. 

"  Bravo.  Frank  I  tliat's  the  way  ;  you  have  her  now  !  "  cry  the 
Beauvillians. 

"  O  !  "  gasps  Lady  Katherine  ;  she  half  thought  she  must 
phut  her  eyes,  but  her  anxiety  to  see  that  all  was  conducted 
with  the  strictest  propriety,  made  her  look  more  vigilantly  thau 
ever. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  83 

Pro.  puts  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  ;  Mr.  Frank  bows 
lower  than  ever,  so  lov/,  indeed,  that  surely  he  is  kissing  her 
hands. 

"  'Tis  done  !  she's  won  !  "  shouted  the  Beauvillians. 

"  O  !  O  !  O  dear !  "  cries  Lady  Katherine,  and  vanishes 
from  the  window,  for  fear  he  should  do  it  again,  or  something 
worse. 

Mr.  Frank  was  seen  to  draw  the  lady's  arm  within  his,  in 
a  very  tender  and  gallant  manner,  then  picking  up  the  parasol, 
he  bore  oiF  his  prize  to  a  more  shady  and  secluded  walk.  Not, 
however,  without  giving  his  hat  a  sort  of  flourish  in  the  air, 
which  was  the  sign  agreed  upon  to  denote  his  complete  success, 
ere  they  disappeared. 

Though  all  the  Beauvillians  were  impatient  to  the  last  degree 
to  shake  Mr.  Frank's  hand  off  in  hearty  congratulations,  and  to 
bestow  kinsmanly  salutes  upon  the  bride-elect's  cheek,  it  was 
deemed  only  right  and  kind  to_  send  Lotty  first,  for  fear  she 
should  be  overcome  ;  the  loving  little  Lotty,  who,  by  winning 
the  gentle  Pro.'s  heart,  had  inspired  Mr.  Frank  with  such  a 
prodigious  idea  of  her  sense  and  discernment. 

Lotty  met  them  after  an  hour's  absence.  Mr.  Frank  was  like 
a  sunflower ;  so  broad  and  expansive  was  his  triumphant  de- 
light. Pro.  had  shrunk  between  bashfulness  and  bewilderment 
into  such  a  shred,  that  she  was  quite  hidden  behind  the  glowino- 
Mr.  Frank. 

"  How  do  you  do,  dear  Cousin  Georgina  ? "  said  Lotty, 
smiling. 

"  O  !  dear,"  cried  Pro.,  getting  quite  limp  and  damp,  with  a 
sudden  gush  of  tears  ;  "  how  very  nice  !  and  you,  darling  Lotty, 
is  it  true  that  we  shall  be  cousins  ?  Dear !  dear !  how  am  I 
ever  to  believe  this  wonderful  thing ! " 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  pleased,  dearest  Georgina,"  said 
the  gallant  Mr.  Frank,  "  at  being  Lotty 's  cousin.  I  felt  more 
certain  that  you  would  accept  me  on  that  account  than  any 
other."  ^ 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Pro.,  innocently ;  "  you  are  very 
kind  to  say  so,  Mr.  Frank,  that  is  just  it.  But,  indeed,  I  ought 
to  say,  that  you  —  that  is  all  —  in  fact,  my  sister  and  I  think 
there  never  was  any  family  like  yours,  dear  Lotty,  for  goodness 
and  kindness." 

"May  you  ever  think  so,  dear,  sweet  Georgina,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Frank,  pressing  her  hand  so  tenderly,  that  Pro.  grew  quite 
nervous,  and  looked  helplessly  at  Lottyto  relieve  her. 


84  MARGARET 

"  I  thank  you  also,  cousiu  Georgina,"  said  Lotty,  "  and  I 
am  suix-  you  will  Hud  out  .shortly,  of  all  the  Bcauvilliaus,  there 
is  no  one  !?o  good  as  cousin  Frank." 

"  Shall  I,  indeed?"  said  the  innocent  Pro. 

"  Yes,  that  you  will.  See  how  Margaret  loves  Harold  ;  that's 
just  the  way  you  will  love  Frank,  and  be  running  alter  hiui  all 
day  in  the  same  silly  manner." 

"No  alleetion  that  my  Georgina  deigns  to  bestow  on  me, 
dear  Lotty,  will  be  tlirown  away,  as  you  know,"  replied  Mr. 
Frank. 

"  Well,  that  being  clearly  an-anged,  I  think  you  two  ought 
to  go  to  Lady  Katherine,  to  get  kissed  and  blessed.  After  that, 
you  know,  cousin  Georgina,  you  must  take  to  loving  Frank 
instead  of  me,  and  1  shall  expect  in  a  few  days  to  hear  you 
calling  out   at  the  top  of  your  voice,  'My  darling  Frank.'" 

"  I  shall  ever  love  you,  dear  Lotty.  in  my  heart  of  hearts," 
whispered  the  hall-smiling,  hall-crying  Pro. 

The  whole  of  that  evening  was  spent  quite  as  an  April  day. 
"When  the  l>Lauvillians  took  the  lead,  the  sun  seemed  to  shine 
out  in  the  most  refulgent  manner  ;  when  Lady  Katherine  spoke, 
little  gentle  drippings  of  rain  jjoured  down,  in  the  shape  of  tears, 
from  herself,  Pru.  and  Pro. 

On  the  whole  it  was  a  most  exciting  evening ;  but  Lotty  Avas 
not  prepared  when  she  went  to  their  room  to  wish  her  new 
cou.sin  good  night,  to  fmd  the  two  sisters  in  convulsions  of 
grief. 

"  Ilovday  !  "  said  Lotty,  "  what  is  the  matter,  that  you  are 
howling  like  two  naughty  children?" 

"  We  have  never  been  separated,"  sobbed  Pru. 

"  I  only  wish  Ghailotte  couM  marry  too,"  sighed  J*ro. 

"I  see'  not  the  slightest  objection  to  thai,"  said  Lotty;  "■  1 
will  send  for  another  of  my  cousins,  or  one  of  my  brothers." 

'•  O,  no,  no  I   that  won't  do,"  cried  Pdi. 

"  I  don't  know,  Charlotte,  l>ut  J  think  ii  might,"  said  Pro. 

'  O,  no,  no  !  "  again  cried  Pr  u. 

With  a  great  deal  of  tioiiblc  ami  difliculty,  Lotty  was  at  last 
marie  aware  that  ihei-e  was  once  a  curate. 

'•  Wfll  1  so  there  are  now,"  said  Lotty,  "  numbers,  if  Char- 
lotte wants  to  marry  a  clergyman.  I  don't  think  any  of  our 
j)eople  are  in  that  line,  IVo." 

"  Put  it  was  not  any  curate  ;    it  was  one,  one  in  particular." 

And  till-  ildi  rly  but  most  siniplc-lieartcd  Pru.  ])ounMl  forth  tlie 
long-chfrisheil  secret  of  her  heart  into  the  unsympalhiziug  bosom 
of  the  lilllc  girli.sh  mischief,  Lotly. 


AND     HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  85 

Q 

"  Well,  don't  cry  so.  If  he  is  half  worthy  of  you,  he  is  still 
unmarried." 

"Yes,  I  know  he  is,"  sobbed  Pru.,  that  makes  me  so  —  so  — 
so "  the  rest  of  the  sentence  was  lost  in  a  burst  of  grief. 

"  Now  do  cheer  up,  Pru.,  and  listen  to  reason.  When  Pro.  is 
married  and  settled,  she  could  have  you  to  visit  her ;  then  she 
could  ask  the  curate,  and  then  you  would  meet.  Now,  what 
could  be  nicer  than  that  ?  " 

"And  I  tvill  ask  him,  dear  Charlotte;  and  Mr.  Frank,  I 
know,  will  help  me,  and  ask  him  too,  and  then,  perhaps,  as  dar- 
ling Lotty  says,  it  will  all  turn  out  so  nicely." 

But  Pru.  still  wept  sorely. 

"  Now,  Pru,,  you  are  naughty,"  said  Lotty,  with  great 
ferocity,  knitting  her  brows,  and  looking  as  bearish  as  she  could. 
"  Here  is  your  sister  so  happy,  going  to  marry  a  Beauvilliers, 
and  he  my  cousin,  and  you  are  weeping  like  Niobe." 

"  We  have  never  been  separated  before,  dear  Lotty,"  sobbed 
Pru.,  jerking  out  her  words  between  each  sob. 

"  I  am  sure  if  the  law  would  alloAv  it,  Frank  would  marry  you 
both  if  he  could.  But  as  it  won't,  you  must  make  up  your  mind 
to  Pro.'s  loss." 

"I  —  I  —  ca'-a'-an't,  dea-e-ar  Lo-otty  !  " 

"  I  will  not  marry  then,  dearest  Charlotte,"  said  Pro.  ;  "I 
will  never  leave  you." 

"  There,"  said  Lotty,  indignantly,  "  there,  what  a  fine  speci- 
men of  sisterly  affection  I  see  before  me.  Two  fond  and  loving 
hearts  separated,  because  you  are  so  selfish,  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  O,  O,  O,  do'-o'-o'-n't,  dear  Lotty  !  " 

"  Made  miserable  forever  ;  perhaps  they  will  both  pine  away 
and  die,  and  then  when  Pro.  is  the  bride  of  death,  as  novels  say, 
what  will  you  do  then,  you  unkind  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  O,  I  am  so  sorry,  I  will  say  no  more  ;  dear  Lotty  !  pray 
forgive  me.  Dear,  dear  Georgina,  take  my  best  wishes  for  your 
happiness." 

"  Now,  that's  a  good  girl.  And  when  you  see  Pro.  so  happy, 
acting  her  very  self  in  her  new  home,  and  doing  the  civil  and 
polite  to  you  when  you  pay  her  a  visit,  think  how  delighted  you 
will  be ;  and  you  will  say  to  yourself,  '  I  consented  to  the 
marriage.  Great  as  was  the  sacrifice,  I  helped  to  make  my  Pro. 
thus  happy.' " 

Warmed  by  this  glowing  description,  Pru.  di'ied  her  eyes,  and 
permitted  herself  to  be  comforted. 
8 


86  MARGARET 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

Philip  Leigh  no  longer  shut  himself  up.  On  the  contrary, 
he  "was  never  at  home.  A  master-passion  had  taken  possession 
of  his  soul,  under  the  inilueuce  of  which  the  long  nourished, 
flourishiiiL'  plaiit  of  envy  and  malice  withered  and  shrank  until 
it  appeari'd  to  die. 

lie  kept  up  a  semblance  of  attentions  to  Augusta.  In  fact, 
she  demanded  them,  and  was  one  of  those  helpless  exigeante  sorts 
of  young  ladies  wlio  immediately  they  see  any  specimen  of  the 
male  species  near  them,  become  in  instant  want  of  a  thousand 
little  indispensable  absurdities. 

Philip  Avould  watcli  tlie  woman-child  with  his  quiet,  thought- 
ful eyes,  while  lie  administered  to  Augusta's  many  little  wishes, 
the  non-tulHlmcnt  of  which  seemed  to  threaten  her  with  immedi- 
ate destruction. 

"  O,  Mr.  Leigh  !  I  have  been  dying  for  you  to  arrive,  and 
play  billiards  with  me  ;  and  if  you  don't  come  immediately 
I  shall  expire  with  impatience." 

"  Pray  don't,  Miss  Clare,"  returne(l  Pliilip,  "  as  I  shall  be  un- 
der the  necessity  of  acting  chief  mourner." 

"And  would  you  not  grieve  for  me?"  murmured  Augusta, 
laying  a  stress  on  the  personal  pronoun,  nominative  case. 

"  I  ft-ar  I  should  be  quite  insensible  to  anything,  Miss  Clare," 
said  Philip,  catching  Lotty's  amused  glance  at  Augusta's  delight- 
ed assumption  of  the  one  meaning,  and  utter  unconsciousness  of 
tlic  f>tli('r  and  more  jialpable  one. 

"Don't  you  think  so.  Miss  lieauvillic-rs?  "  continued  Philip, 
who  never  lost  an  o])pf)rtunity  of  provoking  Lotty  to  talk. 

"  You  ought  to  b(!,"  answered  Lotty,  drily. 

"And  ])ray,  child,  what  can  you  know  about  such  things? 
You  are  as  ba<l  as  Mr.  Herbert  with  your  'oughts,'"  said 
Augusta. 

"As  *  ;.'ii(id'  would  have  been  more  appro])riatc,  Augusta." 

"()  I  we  are  geltin;.'  better,  are  we?  We  are  going  to  church 
to  early  prayers " 

"  No,  not  going,"  said  Lottv. 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  di-voutly  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Augusta,  with 
as  near  an  approach  to  a  sneer  as  her  j)retly  iace  would  allow. 

"  'Tis  ns  well  to  be  devout  about  some  things,"  said  the  imper- 
turbable L<jtty. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  87 

"  But  you  are  devoutly  thankful  for  nothing,  Miss  Clare,"  said 
Philip.  "Miss  Beauvilliers  only  said  she  was  not  going  to  early 
prayers.     Now  she  may  have  gone." 

"  O,  the  little  Puseyite  !  Pray  take  me  away,  Mr.  Leigh  ;  I 
shall  be  contaminated.  Little  absurd  Bear !  I  shall  tell  your 
father,  and  get  you  put  into  the  corner."  Lotty  raised  her  eyes 
and  looked  at  the  fond  old  father.  As  she  caught  his  glance,  a 
look  of  such  unutterable  love  and  fondness  broke  over  her  face, 
that  Philip  was  quite  startled. 

In  a  moment  she  was  on  the  arm  of  the  old  cushioned  chair, 
the  large,  loving  hand  was  on  her  dark  curls  ;  she  looked  like  a 
little  pearl  gleaming  in  the  clasp  of  a  grand,  old,  hoary  Neptune. 

What  a  protean  little  thing  it  was  —  never  two  minutes  the 
same.  Staid,  womaulv,  and  tlious-htful  in  all  that  concerned  her 
father  ;  wild,  laughing,  and  childish  with  Pru.  and  Pro.  ;  clever, 
witty,  and  sensible  with  Margaret  and  Millicent ;  sharp,  irascible, 
and  sarcastic  with  Aiigusta  and  Philip  ;  and  in  each  and  every- 
thing the  most  bewitching  little  fairy  that  ever  crossed  mortal 
eye. 

It  was  a  most  lovely  summer  day,  so  much  so,  that  when 
Philip  appeared  for  his  now  daily  visit,  he  found  the  whole  party, 
including  even  Mr.  Beauvilliers,  out  under  the  trees,  all  employed 
in  different  ways.  Augusta  called  the  visitor  to  her  side,  saying, 
"  Mr.  Leigh,  I  have  kept  this  place  for  you." 

Philip  surveyed  them  all.  Lady  Katherine  had  a  tree  to  her- 
self, knotting  away  with  diligent  industry  at  what  was  of  no  use 
in  the  world,  as  she  had  already  by  her  the  life-labors  of  herself 
and  daughters  at  this  interesting  work,  almost  all  in  an  unappro- 
priated state.  Millicent  and  Margaret  had  the  next  tree,  Harold 
half  dozing  on  the  grass  by  Margaret's  side,  and  half  interested 
in  a  French  novel.  Little  Harold  lay  sleeping  between  them. 
No  wonder,  therefore,  that  Margaret's  cheek  glowed  and  her  soft 
eyes  sparkled  —  she  had  all  she  loved  within  her  touch. 

A  little  out  of  the  line,  but  in  full  sight  of  Lady  Katherine, 
sat  Mr.  Frank  and  the  gentle  Georgina,  she  pretending  to  knot, 
and  he  pretending  to  help  her.  Pro.  was  fast  losing  her  name. 
Under  the  influence  of  the  Beauvillian  bonhommie,  Mr.  Frank 
had  absolutely  saluted  his  bride  elect,  and  that  in  the  presence  of 
Lofty ;  but,  however,  no  one  told  Lady  Katherine.  Pru., 
Augusta,  and  Philip  were  under  another  tree  ;  not  far  from 
them  was  Mr.  Beauvilliers's  chair,  on  the  arm  of  which  was 
perched  the  Little  Bear  —  Great  Bear  serving  as  a  cushion  for 
the  old  gentleman's  feet. 


88  MARGARET 

Presently  the  Little  Bear  slid  down,  and  pulling  the  Great 
Boar  bv  his  cars,  with  many  fond  and  loving^  epithets,  she  SO  ar- 
ranged hina,  as  to  change  Mr.  Beanvilliers's  position. 

*•'  Tlianks,  my  darling  !  —  thanks  !  that  has  eased  me  gi'catly," 
said  the  fond  father. 

''  How  yon  do  tease  that  dog,  Lotty  !  "  cried  Angnsta. 

'•  Do  1  tease  yon,  my  liear  !  "  asked  the  childisli  Lotty,  as  she 
kissed  him  ;  and  his  great  red  tongue  licked  her  little  white 
hand. 

Great  Bear  looked  up  a  loving,  intelligent  answer  from  his 
deep-set  eyes. 

'•  Dear  Lotty  tease  anything !  "  cried  Pru.,  quite  in  a  flush. 
*'  O,  no,  Augusta  !  " 

^'  She  does  !  She  is  the  most  thoughtless,  heedless  child  that 
ever  was  !  You  did  very  wrong,  Mr.  Leigh,  to  trust  your  fine 
dog  to  her,"  continued  Angnsta. 

Mr.  Beauvillicrs  laid  his  hand  on  the  pretty  head.  "  Yes, 
yes  ;  she  is  a  naughty,  unkind  Lotty  !  "  In  the  innocence  of  his 
heart  he  thought  Augusta  was  as  ironical  in  her  remarks  as  him- 
self. 

''How  will  you  punish  me,  father?"  said  Lotty,  still  in  her 
childish  glee. 

"  I  tliink  I  won't  love  you,  Lotty,"  and  the  little  thing  was  in- 
stantly folded  in  that  large  embrace. 

'•  Little  Lotty."  said  iMillicent,  "I  hope  you  did  not  get  wet 
this  morning  ;  the  dew  was  so  heavy." 

"Ah.  me  !  "  exclaimed  Augusta,  "  the  little  Puseyite  has  been 
to  church  this  morning." 

"  Did  you  think  of  your  fond  old  father,  my  Lotty?"  said  Mr. 
Beauvilliers. 

"  Yes,  father  ;  you  know  I  did." 

*'  I  know  it,  my  chiM  ;  Jiut  I  like  to  hear  yon  say  so." 

"  O  Mr.  lieaiivilliers  !  how  can  you  encourage  Lotty  in  such 
popish  tilings?"  asked  Au^rusta. 

"•  I  am  sorry  if  tiiey  are  ])f)pi.sh,  Miss  Clare  ;  but  my  Lotty 
comes  in  to  me  from  her  early  prayers  with  the  fresh  beauty  of  a 
young  C'hristiati  surrounding  her." 

"  And  she  is  one,"  whispereil  I'm.,  as  if  to  herself. 

"  Now,  Lotty,"  said  Augusta,  "  come  here  and  confess:  why 
do  you  go  so  early  to  churdi?" 

"  To  say  niv  pnivers." 

"  I'ooh,  child  !  1  know  that  ;  but  what  other  reason  can  you 
give .'' 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  89 

"  To  get  wet  with  the  early  dew." 

"  You  are  more  bearish  than  ever,  Lotty  ;  but  I  see  it  is  use- 
less trying  to  get  a  sensible  answer  from  such  a  baby  as  you 
are !  " 

"  Perhaps  I  think  you  would  not  understand  my  answer." 

"  That  is  so  likely,  little  goose  !  however,  tell  it  to  me ;  I 
must  know." 

"  Then,"  said  Lotty,  standing  erect  before  them,  "  I  will  tell 
you  my  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  when  I  heard  that  Gerald 
was  establishing  the  early  service  in  the  small  village,  and  cele- 
brating the  saints'  days,  besides  other  things,  I  questioned  to 
myself  the  propriety  of  his  doing  so." 

"  Dear  me !  how  kind  you  were,  and  how  wise  you  have 
grown." 

"  Pray  hush,  Miss  Clare,"  said  Philip  ;  "  I  am  very  anxious." 

"  So  am  I,  dying  with  curiosity." 

"  And  I,"  said  Margaret,  "  am  also  curious  ;  I  put  faith  in 
my  little  Lotty's  reasons." 

"  But  before  I  could  pass  judgment,"  continued  Lotty,  "  I 
said  to  myself,  that  I  must  make  a  trial  thereof.  And  I  have 
done  so." 

"  And  pray  what  is  the  result?  "  said  one  and  all. 

*'  I  think  Gerald  will  not  succeed  in  his  wishes.  The  present 
generation  are  not  that  primitive  race  of  former  days,  who,  hav- 
ing but  little  labor  on  hand,  gladly  accepted  any  occupation  for 
the  early  hours  that  were  then  kept.  We  can  no  more  force 
upon  the  people  of  this  age  the  religious  services  and  duties  that 
occupied  their  many  leisure  hours  in  earlier  times,  than  we  can 
make  them  use  rushes  for  carpets  and  sheepskins  for  clothing. 
Healthy,  active,  honest  industry  is  religion  of  itself.  True,  peo- 
ple may  say,  that  such  services  occupy  but  half  an  hour  in  a 
day,  and  that  it  must  be  sweet  to  the  laboring  man  to  go  to  his 
work  straight  from  his  God :  but  he  does  not  carry  all  that  liis 
heart  holds  dear  with  him  ;  wife  and  children,  or  some  part  of 
his  family,  are  left  at  home  from  necessity.  Therefore,  I  think, 
if  Gerald  inculcated  family  prayer  at  home  he  would  be  doing 
more  good.     That  is  more  fitted  for  the  present  day." 

"  Then  Avhy  do  you  go,  child  ?  "  said  Augusta. 

"  Because,"  said  Lotty,  her  large  eyes  growing  soft  and  dark, 
as  the  shadow  of  sorrow  passed  into  them,  "  I  have  a  prayer  to 

make  to  God "  she  paused,  and  continued  low,  "  for  a  life 

that  I  love.     And  besides,"  she  continued  louder,  "  I  like  to  run 
a  race  with  the  sun.     I  love  to  see  his  bright  face  gilding  up  the 

8* 


90  MARGARET 

Avorlil,  the  little  (lew-drops  just  -waiting  to  welcome  him,  and 
then  imperceptihly  vanishing.  I  like  to  feel  fresh  caud  free,  as 
the  young,  bright  day  ;  and  I  like  to  take  all  my  first  feelings  to 
God  in  his  house.  And  the  world  is  so  beautiful  in  the  early 
morning.  Now,  father,  here  is  the  round  cushion,  it  is  his  turn 
now  ;  and  Bear,  liear,  you  dear  old  thing  !  turn  yourself  round." 

"  I  think,  Lotty,"  said  Harold,  rousing  himself,  "  you  made 
some  sensible  remarks  just  now." 

"  O,  she  found  them  in  some  book,"  interrupted  Augusta. 

"  Indeed  I  did,"  answered  Lotty. 

"  Tliere,  I  told  you  so,"  exclaimed  Augusta. 

"  And  Avhat  book,  little  Lotty?  "  asked  Millicent. 

"  It  is  before  you,"  said  Lotty,  spreading  out  her  hands,  and 
looking  with  glowing  eyes  on  the  scene  around  them. 

"  I  did  not  think  you  were  so  romantic,  Lotty,"  said  Harold. 

"  I  was  speaking  ibr  you,  Harold,"  said  Lotty  ;  ''just  saying 
what  you  would  say,  as  master  and  head  of  all  here.  And  thus, 
Harold,  you  think  of  the  Forest  and  all  its  loveliness.  People 
talk  of  architecture  and  laws  of  beauty,  and  lines  of  grace. 
Take  the  arch  of  an  avenue,  and  see  if  lordly  man  can  build  such 
symmetry  of  grace  as  that.  When  we  were  at  Montagu  House, 
liasil  used  to  show  us  all  the  beauties  of  the  Forest,  did  he  not, 
Margaret?  And  so  we  came  to  love  trees  and  Basil  together, 
and  both  most  dearly." 

''  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  little  Lotty,"  said  a  voice  be- 
hind the  tree.  Lotty  turned,  and  with  a  glad  cry  sprang  towards 
the  speaker.  He  placed  both  Iiands  round  her  slight  waist,  and 
lifting  her,  as  a  feather,  from  the  ground,  kissed  her  on  both 
cheeks. 

"  C),  don't,  Basil !  remember  I  have  left  school,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Is  that  any  reason  why  I  should  love  my  little  Lotty  less?  " 
said  liasil  smiling. 

IMillicent  Avas  in  his  arms;  Haroltl  sj)rang  up  witli  alacrity; 
Margaret  gave  him  a  sister's  welcome  ;  Augusta  arranged  her 
curls.  Basil  was  a  better  parti  than  IMiilii) ;  Lady  Katherine 
was  most  graeious  and  betiigii  ;  but  all  this  warm,  heai'ly  wel- 
come was  nothing  to  I'liilip  iii  comparison  to  the  lirst  one.  A 
flush  of  rage  made  a  strange,  tumultuous  beating  of  his  heart ; 
and  when  ho  saw  the  nobh?,  expressive  countenance,  the  calm, 
wreue  eyes,  with  nothing  of  the  youth  about  him,  })ut  the  fair, 
waving  curls,  all  the  manly  bearing  of  fine  athletic  grace  anil 
power,  I'hilip  I'eli  tlie  wild  demon  of  jealo\isy  was  running 
through  his  veins.     The  blood  of  the  Leighs  was  hot  and   tern- 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  91 

pestuous  when  roused.    He  could  have,  shot  like  a  dog,  the  noble 
specimen  of  a  man  that  stood  before  him. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

"Ah,  Basil,  why  did  you  not  come  before  ?  "  cried  Millicent. 

"  Yes,"  said  Harold,  "  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  my  dear  fel- 
low, and  confess  why  you  have  been  so  long  in  fulfilling  your 
promise  of  visiting  us." 

"  We  have  been  expecting  you  with  so  much  anxiety,"  added 
Margaret. 

"  I  can  assure  you.  Lord  Erlscourt,"  said  Lady  Katherine, 
"  your  reception  has  been  daily  thought  of,  and  cared  for, 
though  your  unexpected  arrival  has  not  permitted  us  to  show 
you  this  respect."  • 

Basil  smiled,  and  answered,  "  I  had  a  very  poor  reception,  I 
can  assure  you,  Lady  Katlierine  ;  for  when  I  arrived  at  the  Rec- 
tory, there  was  no  kind  sister  to  welcome  me  :  no  one,  but  a 
man,  whom  I  supposed  to  be  my  brother,  but  who  Avas  so  deeply 
absorbed  in  writing  his  sermon,  that  all  lie  did  was  to  shoAV  me 
the  door,  and  direct  me  in  the  path  to  Court  Leigh." 

"But  Avhy  did  you  not  come  before?"'  said  Millicent. 

"  Do  you  not  know,  Milly  dear,  that  I  have  affairs  to  attend 
to,  more  than  all  children  ?  The  two  boys  had  set  their  hearts 
on  spending  their  holidays  in  the  Forest  with  me.  I  can  assure 
you  we  have  had  a  merry  time." 

"  They  must  be  very  different  children  to  what  they  were, 
Basil." 

"  I  am  glad  to  say,  quite  so,  Milly.  In  fact,  I  am  so  proud 
of  them,  that  I  half  thought  of  bringing  them  down  to  see  you." 

"  Pray,  dear  Basil,  do  so,  their  next  holidays." 

"  But  now,  Basil,"  said  Margaret,  "  you  must  be  introduced 
to  three  people  —  Miss  Clare,  Mr.  Leigh,  Lord  Erlscourt." 

As  Basil  lifted  his  hat  from  his  head,  and  displayed  his  whole 
face  to  their  view,  Philip  felt  inclined  to  curse  him  in  his  heart, 
while  Augusta  mentally  exclaimed,  — 

"  He  is  too  beautiful  for  a  man  !  " 

The  noble  brow  was  shaded  by  almost  feminine  cuids,  so  light 
and  wavy  were  they,  the  dark  blue  eyes  beamed  with  sweetness 


92  MARGARET 

but  energy,  "wliile  a  lingcriug  shadow  in  them  imparted  a  look 
of  grave  dignity  to  his  whole  countenance,  that  betttted  an  older 
man.  But  wlien  he  spoke,  and  this  smile  gleamed  out,  the 
laughing  innocence  of  a  fair,  bright  buy  seemed  to  take  the  place 
of  the  older  man. 

"  But  where  is  tlie  third?  "  said  Basil. 

"  Here  !  "  said  Margaret,  placing  her  boy  in  his  arms. 

Philip  noted  the  instant  diange  of  countenance,  the  sudden 
shock,  that  made  the  strong  frame  tremble  with  its  light  burden, 
but  as  he  looked  it  was  gone.  "Whatever  Basil  felt,  it  passed 
away  with  the  kiss  he  gave  Margaret's  boy,  and  his  countenance 
was  serene  as  ever  Avhen  he  raised  it. 

"  I  am  no  judge  of  babies,  Margaret,"  said  he,  "  only  of 
rough,  hardy  school-bovs  ;  and  I  will  show  my  two  against  the 
world."    ■ 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  now,  Basil,"  said  Lotty  ;  "for  we 
are  going  home  in  a  week." 

'*  1  intend,  Lotty,  to  beguile  you  and  your  father  to  my  forest 
home  some  day,"  returned  Basil.    • 

'•  Will  you  go,  father?  "  asked  Lotty,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  my  best  Lotty." 

"  And  see,  Basil,  wliat  a  splendid  hound  I  have." 

"  Bi-autilul ;  upon  my  word,  he  is  superb  !  with  him  little 
Lotty,  we  sliall  have  rare  sport." 

i'iiilip's  heart  grew  calmer  as  he  witnessed  the  sort  of  childish 
behavior  of  Lottie  to  Lord  Erlscourt ;  and  when  he  left  with  his 
sister,  was  quite  ready  to  join  with  Augusta  in  her  praises. 

"  So  handsome,  so  disdnffKC,  so  elegant,"  she  said. 

"  So  good,  so  noble,  so  brave,"  echoed  a  little  mocking  voice 
behind  her. 

''  You  little  bear!  " 

"  Then  forbear,  Augusta,  applying  such  epithets  to  Basil.  In 
looking  at  him,  one  does  not  think  so  much  of  his  personal 
appearance  as  his  character." 

"  (),  if  we  arc  going  to  have  a  sermon  T  shall  retire." 

It  did  not  tak(!  liasil  many  days  to  discover  that  beneath  the 
polislx  il  suriace  of  their  life,  there  was  a  sure,  though  slumber- 
ing, volcano  sleeping,  that  recpiired  but  little  to  boil  over ; 
especially  as  Cierald  cr»nlided  to  him,  in  glowing,  lofty  language, 
the  supineness,  indolence,  and  indifference  of  the  squire  of  his 
parish  ;  while  Harold  in  his  turn,  dilated  on  the  stern  exactness, 
and  almost  rude  interference,  with  which  his  rector  meddled  in 
hid  matters.      It  was  no  part  of  Basil's  creed  to  make  himself  a 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  93 

go-between.  He  ever  deemed  it  better  policy  for  people  situated 
as  bis  brother  and  Sir  Harold,  to  leave  them  to  adjust  their  own 
differences  ;  for  where  strong  religious  principles,  conscientious 
determination  of  duty,  were  mingled  with  singleness  of  heart, 
and  utter  forgetfuluess  of  self,  the  uprightness  of  such  a  charac- 
ter would  make  its  own  way,  and  bear  down  all  opposition. 
This,  Basil  knew,  was  Gerald's  character  ;  and  while  he  might 
lament  that,  with  over-much  zeal,  he  had  created  in  Harold's 
heart  a  strong  personal  dislike,  he  deemed  that  heart  too  gen- 
erous and  frank  to  resist  the  good  Gerald  Avished  him. 

But  Basil  was  not  aware  bow  much  the  demon  of  indolence 
and  torpidity  bad  taken  possession  of  Harold.  He  was  more 
concerned  to  see  that  the  gentle  playfellow  of  his  early  days 
passed  on  her  quiet  way,  content  wnth  the  present,  without  fear 
for  the  future.  In  no  one  way  was  Margaret  improved,  but  was 
sinking  into  a  meek,  inane  character,  with  no  feeling  beyond 
what  concerned  her  Harold.  And  he  knew  her  in  reality  so 
different.  Many  episodes  in  their  childish  life  rose  before  him, 
wherein  her  sense,  her  judgment,  and  endurance,  all  marked 
her  as  fitted  for  mucb  more  than  the  indolent  life  she  was  now 
leading. 

"  Little  Lotty,  Queen  Margaret  is  leading  a  sad,  useless  life 
here,"  said  Basil,  one  day  to  the  little  Bear,  as  she  was  romping 
with  the  great  Bear. 

"  She  only  thinks  of  two  things  in  the  world,  Basil ;  and  that 
is  what  you  and  I  are  not  accustomed  to." 

"  No,  Lotty  ;  it  was  different  when  she  was  a  little,  wild 
school-girl  like  you.     Have  you  not  tried  to  reason  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  Basil." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Her  time  has  not  yet  come.  I  would  rather  preach  to  you, 
my  Bear  ;  you  would  understand  me  sooner,"  continued  Lotty, 
to  her  dog. 

Lotty  looked  up  as  Basil  continued  silent.  He  was  in  deep, 
painful  thought. 

"  You  must  save  her,  Basil." 

"How,  Lotty?" 

"  1  don't  know  ;  but  you  must  try  to  aivaken  her  from  her 
dream  of  security.  I  thought  one  night  she  would  perhaps  show 
some  emotion.  Harold  was  not  quite  good  —  sometimes  he  is 
not  —  that  is,  you  know  he  stays  rather  longer  in  the  dining- 
room  than  be  ought ;  he  always  does  when  Lady  Katberine  is 
here.     As  he  lay  with  sleepy  eyes  half  back  in  his  chair,  some- 


94  MARGARET 

body  that  shall  be  nameless  euterecl  into  conversation  with  him. 
I  suppose  she  was  more  amusing  than  usual,  for  there  ensued  so 
violent  a  llirtatiun,  that  Lady  Ivatlieriue  swept  out  of  the  room, 
carrying  Pru.  and  Pro.  Avith  her.  I  looked  at  Margaret ;  she 
did  not  seem  to  be  taking  the  least  notice.  And  -when  that 
somebody  said,  in  a  simpering,  fawning  way,  '  I  hope,  dear,  you 
don't  mind  my  little  flirtation  with  .Sir  Ilarold  this  evening.' 
'Ah,  no,'  said  C^ueeu  Margaret  (lor  whicli  J  eould  have  beaten 
her,  Basil),  '  it  is  so  kind  of  you  to  amuse  him.' " 

"  Did  she  feel  no  indignation,  Lotty?" 

"  Well,  she  miglit,  perhaps  ;  but  I'll  tell  you  what  she  meant, 
Basil ;  she  would  die  rather  than  that  any  one  should  think 
Harold  was  wrong,  or  could  do  wrong !  " 

''  I  l)elieve  it  !  I  believe  it !  Yes,  I  know  that  must  be  her 
thouglit." 

"  Wo  are  going  to  drive  to-day,  Basil ;  pray  come  wuth  us. 
I  Avill  be  cliarioteer,  and  I  will  take  care  to  drive  you  to  what 
Gerald  would  call  '  some  improving  scenes '  !  " 

Having  seen  both  her  Harolds  so  employed  until  she  returned, 
that  they  would  not  miss  her,  Margaret  went  A\ith  the  delighted 
Lotty  and  Basil.  IMargaret  had  not  enjoyed  such  a  merry  drive 
since  she  was  a  school-girl.  Basil  was  most  aunising,  with  all 
his  stories  of  everyday  life,  and  Avhat  he  did  at  home,  looking 
so  fresh,  handsome,  and  animated,  that,  whether  she  liked  it  or 
not,  the  idea  of  a  dark,  silent,  heavy  companion,  who  usually  sat 
there,  was  perpetually  rising  to  her  mind  in  contrast.  Then 
Lotty's  quaint  little  comments  upon  Basil's  stories  were  so  racy, 
that  even  he  was  in  fits  of  laughing.  Tiiey  had  no  servant  with 
them,  and,  whether  from  design  or  accident,  Lotty  was  perpetu- 
ally desiring  to  have  something  done  to  the  harness.  Basil 
would  be  out  at  the  ponies'  heads  on  the  instant. 

"  Our  servant  is  active,  is  he  not.  Queen  IMcg?" 

''  lie  is,  indeed,  my  J-otty  ;  liow  he  si)rings  out  !  it  is  quite  a 
pleasure  to  sec  him.  But  1  am  so  afraid  that  in  doing  it  thus 
quickly  lie  may  get  hurt." 

"  N(j  iear,"  said  Lotty,  "  otherwise  I  would  not  trouble  him. 
But  I  have  a  mind  to  see  how  long  a  man,  who  calls  himself  a 
gentleman,  will  consider  it  necessary  to  obey  a  Avonum's  Avill." 

"  1  tliink  you  liavc  tried  Basil  enough,  Lotty  ;  this  is  the  sixth 
time  you  iiave  luadt;  him  get  out." 

"  Yes,  it  is  of  no  use  trying  this  experiment  on  liim,  for  if  I 
Avere  to  ask  hini  six  times  nmre  he  Avoidtl  be  just  as  ready.  I 
think  i  will  try  my  plan  on  one  of  the  lazy  Leiglis  —  eh,  my 
Queen  ?  " 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  95 

"  Then  you  will  never  get  them  to  obey  you,"  said  Margaret, 
lau"'liiug  merrily,  as  if  Lotty  was  in  a  joke.  "  But  go  on  now, 
Lotty,  lor  Basil  is  up  again." 

They  arrived  at  Avhat  appeared  to  be  a  ruined  farmstead, 
nevertheless  sounds  came  from  within  the  half-roofed  house  :  a 
few  poor,  miserable  fowls  were  scattered  about,  with  some 
gaunt  pigs. 

"  Desirable  place  that,"  said  Lotty,  laconically ;  "  I  was 
thinking  of  asking  for  a  glass  of  Avater,  for  Bear  and  me.  Do 
you  think  Ave  shall  get  it  here,  Basil?" 

"  I  will  go  and  ask,  little  Lotty." 

"  No,  no,  you  Avill  knock  your  brains  out  against  the  door. 
Margaret  and  I  Avill  go,  if  you  will  hold  the  ponies." 

"  I  will  accompany  you  Avith  pleasure,"  said  Margaret,  "  but 
I  am  sure  no  one  can  live  there." 

But  it  AA^as  inhabited.  Sickly,  miserable-looking  children  lay 
about  the  floor  ;  a  hoarse  but  feeble  voice  came  from  a  bed,  in  a 
corner  of  the  room,  as  they  entered,  and  a  Avoman,  with  a  face 
of  Avoe  and  starvation  terrible  to  see,  making  Margaret  quite 
shudder,  rose  before  them. 

"  I  came  to  ask  for  a  glass  of  water,"  said  Lotty.  The  Avoman 
sent  a  little  child  out  Avith  a  jug. 

"  You  seem  ill,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  we  are  spent  at  last.  After  sti'uggling  all 
we  could,  the  last  misfortune  is  come  on  us  :  my  husband  is 
helpless  Avith  rheumatic  fever." 

"  But  how  happens  it,  that  Avith  all  this  appearance  of  having 
been  a  large  dairy  farm,"  said  Lotty,  "  you  are  in  this  plight?" 

The  woman  shook  her  head,  and  burst  into  tears.  The  man 
called  out  from  his  bed,  "  It  was  a  miserable  hour,  ma'am, 
Avhen  Ave  came  here.  I  was  Avorth  eight  hundred  pounds  ere  I 
took  the  farm,  but  see  to  Avhat  I  have  fallen,  through  the  grasp- 
ing hand  of  my  landlord  and  his  agent ;  they  exacted  the  rent, 
which  was  high,  to  the  farthing,  but  they  did  nothing  that  they 
promised.  They  gave  me  no  help  to  drain  my  land,  they  let  my 
barns  fall,  without  giving  me  a  stick  to  help  them  up  ;  and  the 
cow-shed  was  bloAvn  down  one  night,  killing  three  out  of  six 
cows.  I  struggled  as  Avell  as  I  could,  but  there  is  a  curse  on 
this  estate  ;  I  am  bound  down  by  a  lease,  or  I  Avould  have 
worked  on  the  road  to  get  aAvay." 

"Would  your  landlord  do  nothing  for  you?"  said  Lotty; 
"have  you  not  told  him  of  your  condition?" 

"  I  have  told  him  myself,  I  have  waited  on  him  night  and 


96  MARGARET 

day.  My  wife  went  to  see  the  lady,  ■who  seemed  to  be  an  augcl 
by  the  goodness  and  gentleness  in  her  face,  but  she  had  a  hard 
heart  beiiL-ath.  She  listened  with  shut  ears  ;  she  did  not  seem  to 
understand  ;  she  said,  '  ^Sir  Harold  must  not  be  disturbed,  he 
was  reading  or  sleeping  ; '  and  we  were  starving." 

Lotty  was  too  generous,  and  much  too  fond  of  her  Queen 
Margaret,  to  turn  and  look  at  her,  as  the  man  continued  a  tale 
of  woe  and  hardship,  that  few  believed  could  exist  on  England's 
soil,  but  which  may  be  the  case  under  similar  circumstances. 
Hard  bargains  of  rent,  strict  exactions  in  demanding  the  same, 
are  not  so  ruinous  to  a  tenant  as  the  Avant  of  his  landlord's  help 
to  keep  Ids  home  clean  and  dry,  his  buildings  in  repair  and  neat- 
ness, his  gates  and  fences  in  order  and  use,  his  fields  drained 
and  manured.  AVhen  this  is  the  case,  let  the  tentant  beginulge 
his  landlord  no  rent,  but  prove  the  value  of  his  assistance  by  the 
punctuality  of  his  payments.  This  is  the  true  bond  of  union 
between  landlord  and  tenant,  and  causes  England  to  abound  in 
estates,  whore  the  landlord  lives  as  a  king  among  those  around 
him,  Avhile  they  bring  up  their  sons  and  daughters  to  love  and 
honor  the  bountiful  hand  that  helps  them,  the  willing  ear  that 
listens.  "While  the  landlord,  on  liis  part,  views  with  pride  and 
delight  generation  alter  generation  growing  up  upon  his  estates, 
farms  passing  from  father  to  son,  the  hereditary  love  with  them  : 
each  strengthening  the  other,  until  they  are  part  and  parcel 
together. 

As  Margaret  lifted  the  broken  pitcher  to  her  lips,  the  light 
fell  upon  her  pale,  agitated  face.  Lotty  saw  enough,  while  the 
woman  exclaime(l,  "  It  is  my  lady  herself,  Lady  Leigh  !  "  In 
the  confusion  that  ensued,  Lotty  escaped  ;  her  Avarm,  loving 
heart  could  not  bear  to  see,  Aviiat  she  kncAv  must  be  there,  the 
first  awakening  of  Margaret  from  her  quiet  dream  of  bliss,  pic- 
tured in  the  jiitherto  smiling  face. 

"All!  Basil,  1  fear  Ave  have  succeeded  too  Avell  I  I  Avould 
rather.  —  what  would  1  not  latlur,  tiian  that  slie  should  have 
tliis  liitti-r  lesson?  T  Avould  rather  see  you  married  to  Augusta, 
1  think  : " 

"  Come,  Lotty,  I  do  not  see  Avhy  I  am  to  be  so  severely  pun- 
ished for  nothing." 

"■  Yr>u  deserve  some  fright,  Lasil,  for  Augusta  UM  me  last 
night  you  had  all  but  proposed  to  her  ;  and  you  know  you  nnist 
have  given  her  some  encouragement,  she  couhl  not  (juite  tell 
such  a thing,  you  know." 

'*  It  is  agaiust  my  principles,  Lotty,  to  lind  fault  Avilh  a  lady  ; 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  97 

but  in   this  instance  I  so  utterly  deny  the  imputation,  that  I 
really  imagined  the  lady  to  be  engaged  to  Philip  Leigh." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  man,  Basil?" 

"  I  lilie  him  so  well,  that  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  him  mar- 
ried to  Augusta.  Both  he  and  Harold  have  every  element  of 
good  in  them,  but  both  seem  some  how  to  have  suffered  a  defect 
in  their  education." 

"  Not  so,  Basil,  they  M^anted  early  self-denial.  There  was 
no  creed  in  their  bringing  up,  that  told  them  duty  should  guide 
their  actions,  even  though  no  religious  principles  were  given 
them." 

"Is  this  my  little  Lotty  talking  so  wisely?"  said  Basil,  turn- 
ing her  face  round  to  him,  and  looking  into  her  eyes. 

"  O,  don't !  Basil,"  said  Lotty,  "  I  am  no  school-girl  now." 

"  What  wonderful  eyes  you  have,  Lotty !  they  are  like  a  deep 
well." 

"  With  truth  at  the  bottom,  I  hope,  Basil ;  but  to  return  to 
the  Leighs,  Margaret  would  have  been  different  in  other 
hands;  why  did  you  let  her  escape  you,  Basil?" 

"  Hush  !  Lotty,  hush  !  you  show  no  wisdom  in  speaking  thus 
to  me  of  a  married  woman." 

"  Then  I  will  go  and  talk  to  Bear,"  said  Lotty,  assuming  her 
childish  air. 

When  Margaret  appeared  again,  they  neither  of  them  looked 
at  her ;  Basil  helped  her  in  with  kind  assiduity,  Lotty  scolded 
Bear  and  ponies  vehemently,  and  kept  up  afterwards  a  war  of 
words  with  Basil.  Again  they  came  within  sight  of  a  ruined 
farm-house,  with  all  its  buildings  in  a  more  dilapidated  condi- 
tion than  the  first. 

"  Stop,"  said  Margaret,  the  first  word  she  had  spoken  ;  Lotty 
drew  her  ponies  up  on  their  haunches. 

"  No  one  lives  there,  Margaret,"  said  she ;  "  is  it  not  so, 
Basil?" 

'•  I  will  go  and  see,"  said  he. 

"  No,"  said  Margaret,  "  I  must  go  myself." 

"  Ah,  Basil,"  said  Lotty,  as  she  disappeared  under  the  ruined 
door-way,  "  how  her  voice  is  changed.  Have  you  been  too  hard 
upon  her  ?  " 

"  No,  Lotty,  with  a  disposition  like  Margaret's,  nothing  but 
the  life  she  has  been  lately  leading  will  hurt  her." 

Margaret  returned,  her  face  brighter.  No  one  lived  there, 
but  the  ruin  of  everything  was  sad. 

In  this  way  they  passed  many  more  homesteads,  at  all  of 
9 


98  MARGARET 

which  Margaret,  at  her  own  request,  got  out  and  visited  them, 
each  wretched,  miserable  and  Ibrloru. 

As  they  drove  home,  in  a  very  different  mood  from  that  in 
which  they  started,  nothing  was  said.  Lotty  did  not  even  speak 
to  the  spirited  ponies,  or  answer  the  wondering  looks  of  her 
Bear. 

As  Basil  handed  Margaret  out  of  the  carriage,  she  paused  for 
a  moment  on  the  thrt's;hold  of  her  house,  and  looking  at  them 
both  with  the  soft,  dark  eyes,  full  of  expressive  meaning  and 
aflection,  said  gently,  but  clearly,  "  Thank  you  both." 

"  8he  is  saved,"  said  Basil,  giving  Lotty  an  irresistible  kiss 
of  congratulation,  as  he  lifted  her  from  the  carriage. 

"  Don't,  Basil !  you  always  forget  1  have  left  school." 

Other  eyes  saw  that  kiss,  two  pair,  one  of  which  belonged  to 
a  heart  that  whispered  to  itself,  "  I  hate  Lotty,  and  I  will  be 
revenged  upon  her  some  how." 

The  owner  of  the  other  pair  said  also  to  himself,  "  Ah  !  ah  ! 
my  Lord  Erlscourt,  it  is  your  turn  now,  but  mine  shall  come." 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

To  all  outward  appearances  INIargaret  seemed  as  serene  as 
usual ;  but  to  Loity,  Basil,  and  Millicent  there  was  a  change. 

"Where  is  Queen  Meg?"  asked  Harold,  one  morning,  with 
peevish  vexation  on  his  lace. 

"  O,  dear  me  !  she  has  walked  off,  no  one  knows  Avhere," 
replied  Augusta,  "  caring  for  no  one." 

"  Very  tiresome,"  said  Harold,  angrily  ;  "  she  knows  I  wanted 
some  letters  written,  and  lialt'a  dozen  other  things." 

"  Dear  me.  Sir  Harold  I  how  can  yovi  expect  a  woman  to  be 
always  running  after  her  husband?"  cried  Augusta;  "  I  knew 
IMargaret's  fit  would  not  last  long,  as  soon  as  she  had  old  friends 
about  her." 

llanjld's  face  flushed. 

'•'■  I  should  think,"  said  Lotty,  looking  up  quietly  from  her 
book,  '"if"  you,  Augusta,  wouM  give  Harold  the  message  Mar- 
garet l(!i't  for  him,  you  would  spare  him  the  trouble  of  putting 
himself  into  a  rage." 

"  But,  Lotty,  it  is  so  unlike  Margaret  to  go  away  without 
telling  me,  or  asking  me,"  said  Harold. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  99 

"  I  presume,  from  the  peculiarly  amiable  manner  In  which 
you  always  beg  not  to  be  teased  with  foolish  questions,  that  she 
was  obeying  you  in  this  instance." 

"  I  believe  I  am  very  cross  sometimes  ;  but  really  the  weather 
is  so  hot,  and  the  flies  so  troublesome,  no  wonder  one  gets  bored. 
But  what  is  the  message  ?  " 

"It  was  given  to  Augusta." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  said  Augusta,  angrily;  "you 
were  not  in  the  room." 

"  I  knew  it  from  this  :  these  are  Harold's  letters,  all  written, 
sealed,  and  ready  to  go,  with  their  copies  beside  them  ;  I  am 
sure  you  were  told  to  intbrm  him  thereof,  and  beg  him  to  see  if 
they  were  correct.  Then  by  Harold's  chair  I  see  his  little  table, 
with  his  book,  the  two  newspapers,  his  paper  cutter,  his  foot- 
stool (as  if  you  were  some  gouty  old  fellow,  Harold)  ;  and  all 
these  show,  that  though  some  business  might  take  Margaret 
away,  Harold  was  not  foi'gotten." 

"  You  are  a  good  little  soul,  Lotty,  I  must  say,  and  very 
sharp  too."  So  Harold  seated  himself  lazily  in  his  chair,  con- 
tinuing, "  You  can  put  all  the  copies  into  my  drawer,  Lotty,  and 
ring  the  bell  to  send  the  letters  off." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Lotty ;  "  and  if  it  won't  fatigue  your 
highness  too  much,  I  will  read  you  the  copies  ere  I  put  them 
away." 

"  Do,  dear  child,"  said  he,  laughing  at  her  quaint  gravity. 

The  Beauvillian  visit  was  nearly  ended.  Philip  tried  every 
means  in  his  power  to  gain  an  interview  with  Lotty  alone :  she 
was  always  in  the  midst  of  everybody ;  if  her  father  did  not 
want  her,  she  was  by  Margaret's  side  ;  and  when  Pru.  and  Pro. 
could  possibly  catch  her,  they  hung  by  her  with  a  tenacity  that 
made  Philip  wish  them  both  deposited  in  that  remarkable  sea 
which,  we  ^  suppose  from  its  sanguinary  color,  always  comes 
uppermost  in  people's  minds  on  such  occasions. 

Mr.  Frank  had  passed  from  the  excited  state  of  courtship  into 
a  raging  fever  of  haste  and  eagerness  to  be  married;  and  he 
was  anxious  to  get  home,  to  make  preparations  to  receive  his 
Georgina. 

Lady  Katherine  would  have  besought  a  delay  of  six  months 
for  propriety's  sake  !  but  the  Beauvillian  ardor  and  enthusiasm 
knocked  down  Lady  Katherine's  arguments  one  after  another, 
like  so  many  nine-pins,  and  threatened  to  carry  the  stately  old 
dame  herself  quite  off  the  balance  of  her  propriety. 

"  Dear   madam,   let   them   marry,"  said   Mr.    Beauvilliers ; 


100  MARGARET 

"  -why  keep  them  waiting  just  for  a  little  punctilio  ?  you  know 
royal  marriages  dou't  take  halt"  so  long  to  settl(\" 

This  master-stroke  of  his  chiettaiu  decided  Mr.  Frank's  hap- 
piness, and  his  fever  somewhat  abated  under  the  influence  of 
preparation  :  but  as  for  departing  without  his  charge,  that  was 
quite  impossible.  !So  the  day  was  fixed,  much  to  tlie  sorroAV  of 
every  one  ;  and  only  the  day  before  did  chance  favor  Philip. 

He  had  joined  Lotty,  Harold,  and  Basil,  in  a  ride  that  Harold 
had  been  induced  to  take,  to  see  a  wood  that  required  thinning. 
Harold  was  already  beginning  to  feel  the  want  of  money  ;  and 
the  prospect  of  having  some  wood  to  sell,  that  would  ease  his 
present  care,  spurred  him  to  exert  himself  for  once. 

Exhihirated  by  the  exertion,  and  the  feeling  of  doing  some- 
thing, Harold  agreed  to  go  on  a  little  farther ;  but  Lotty  wished 
to  return  to  her  father's  early  dinner.  Philip  otlcred  to  escort 
her  home,  with  a  sudden  rush  to  his  heart  ol'  tumidtuous  joy, 
while  his  outward  appearance  was  calm  as  usual. 

They  chatted  very  happily  for  some  time.  Lotty  really  liked 
Philip,  he  was  so  amusing;  and  she  gave  herself  up  to  friendly 
and  i'amiliar  conversation  with  him,  as  she  would  do  Avith  Basil. 

Receiving  no  answer  to  one  of  her  sallies,  she  looked  round 
and  saw  I'iiilip  Avith  a  face  quite  pale  from  internal  emotion. 
He  was  thinking  at  the  moment  that  his  fate  depended  upon 
the  answer  he  meant  to  make  her  give  him  ere  tlie  ride  was 
over ;  and  the  possibility  that  she  might  refuse  him  blanched  his 
cheek. 

"Anytliing  tlie  matter,  IMiilip?"  said  she.  His  Christian 
name  passed  her  lips  as  much  from  surprise  to  see  his  agitation, 
as  from  a  sort  of  habit  she  had  of  becoming  familiar  with  every- 
body she  liked. 

'•  Lotty,  Lotty,  I  love  you,"  said  Philip,  "  I  love  you  to  mad- 
ness.    O  !  Lotty,  will  you  be  mine  ?  " 

She  reiiKMl  u])  her  horse  full  short.  The  dear,  brilliant  eyes 
looked  full  at  him  in  astonishment,  then,  as  if  unable  to  bear  the 
burning  love  expressed  in  his,  so  unlike  their  usual  expression, 
ahe  wheeled  her  horse  suddenly  round.  With  a  smart  touch  of 
Iter  whip  he  boutidcd  over  the  fence  by  the  road-side,  and  shak- 
ing his  head  with  indignation,  he  fled  in  a  mad  gallop  across  a 
heavy  pUmghed  field.  They  were  over  the  next  hedge  ere  Philip 
gained  his  senses. 

"  Wilfid,  wicked  little  thing!"  he  jiassionately  exclaimed, 
plunging  his  spurs  into  his  horse's  sides,  and  following  her ; 
"  1   will  make  her  hear  me  ;  I  will  have  an  answer." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  101 

Though  Lotty  never  looked  back,  she  seemed  to  know  she 
was  being  pursued  ;  for  the  next  glimpse  he  had  of  her,  she  was 
bending  over,  examining  the  girths  of  her  saddle.  He  could 
see  her,  gathering  up  the  folds  of  her  habit,  and  setting  her 
slight  figure  firmly  in  her  seat ;  then,  with  a  clear,  ringing 
chirrup  to  her  horse,  away  they  bounded,  as  if  on  a  race  for 
life  and  death. 

Philip  followed,  his  brows  knit,  his  teeth  set,  determination 
even  in  the  waves  of  his  hair,  wliile  he  muttered  to  himself, 
"  there  is  the  brook,  beyond  the  long  meadow  ;  I  shall  catch 
her  there."  As  he  thinks  this,  again  he  hears  the  clear  voice 
cheering  her  horse.  They  are  over  the  brook,  and  are  breasting 
the  steep  bank  on  the  other  side.  He  could  almost  hear  the 
little  hand  patting  the  good  steed  who  bore  her  so  gallantly,  and 
he  felt  half  mad  with  vexation  and  admiration,  as  he  watched 
the  little  graceful  figure  bending  so  lightly  forward  to  ease  her 
horse  up  the  nearly  perpendicular  bank.  They  are  gone  over 
the  top,  and  Lotty  might  almost  have  heard  the  wind  bringing 
the  words,  "  Wilful,  wicked  little  thing  !  " 

As  Philip  reached  the  head  of  the  bank,  he  saw  the  object  of 
his  pursuit  far  away,  three  fields  off.  A  sudden  pang  of  fear 
sent  every  other  feeling  from  his  heart. 

"  The  quarry,  ah  !  the  quarry,  she  Avill  not  know  of  it.  My 
voice  is  useless  at  this  distance  ;  she  Avill  think  too  that  I  but 
mean  to  frighten  her.  Ah  !  that  lovely,  exquisite,  wilful  being, 
is  she  to  meet  such  a  horrible  fate  ?  " 

Philip  spui-red  wildly  on,  shouting,  though  he  knew  it  useless. 
As  he  looked,  he  saw  the  wild  gallop  restrained,  the  obedient 
steed  was  changing  his  stride  into  a  quiet  cuuter. 

"  Ah,  she  knows  it !  how  could  I  doubt  her  sense  and  judg- 
ment? she  sees  some  sign  of  unknown  danger.  Now,  now  then 
I  have  her,  now  will  I  make  her  answer  me." 

He  did  not  see,  as  she  bent  low  on  her  saddle,  the  furtive 
glances  she  was  casting  behind.  As  he  dashed  over  the  last 
fence  with  a  Avild  cry  of  triumph,  she  stood  still,  as  if  waiting 
for  his  approach ;  but  as  his  horse  struck  into  his  full  swing 
gallop,  she  suddenly  wheeled  round,  and  passing  within  ten 
yards  of  him,  bounded  over  the  last  hedge,  which  took  her  into 
a  lane  ;  ere  Philip  could  pull  up  his  half-mad  steed,  he  saw  her 
far  away  up  the  winding  lane  without  the  possibility  of  being 
overtaken,  for  she  was  leisurely  cantering  along,  he  was  almost 
sure,  switching  the  hedge-rows  as  she  passed,  and  singing  in  the 
low,  happy  tone  she  was  wont  to  do,  in  her  childish  moods. 
9  * 


102  MARGARET 

The  air  might  liavo  borne  on  its  viewless,  but  not  voicelesg, 
bosom  sundry  exchimations,  the  reverse  of  good  or  proper,  until 
the  heavy  brow  unkuit ;  a  happy  thought  had  occurred. 

'*  I  will  turn  and  go  in  by  the  lower  lodge.  It'  I  spare  not  my 
horse,  I  shall  be  tliere  before  her  ;  and  as  she  emerges  from  the 
upper  lodge,  I  shall  catch  her  at  the  angle  of  the  roads.  Speak 
to  her  I  will,  and  make  her  answer  me,  as  the  heaven  is  above 
us." 

lie  was  in  time  ;  Lotty  Avas  cantering  quietly  up  to  the  junc- 
tion of  the  roads.  "  Now  she  is  mine."  He  thought  it  too  soon  ; 
as  she  caught  sight  of  him,  she  turned  her  horse's  head  in  the 
direction  of  the  walnut  avenue. 

"  Where  can  she  be  going  now?  for  that  only  leads  to  the 
flower-garden  Avith  the  ha-ha  before  it,  and  the  rabbit  fence." 
He  followed.  "  Heavens  !  she  is  not  so  mad  as  to  think  of 
jumping  the  ha-ha.  I  hear  her  speaking  to  her  horse  ;  she 
gathers  up  her  habit,  she  is  shaking  the  reins.  Stay,  Lotty, 
stay,  it  will  be  your  death  ! " 

A  ringing,  mocking,  last  cheer  to  her  horse  sounds  in  his  ear, 
and  Lotty  is  over,  plunging  about  mid  the  flower-beds.  He 
laslies  his  steed,  determined  to  follow ;  but  the  Avise  animal 
swerves  aside,  and  as  he  turns  him  around  for  another  trial,  he 
sees  the  "little,  wild,  wicked  thing"  dismounting  from  her 
horse  ;  and  giving  it  a  parting  switch  of  her  whip,  as  a  hint 
to  take  himsell"  off  as  best  he  may,  she  disappears  through  the 
wide  open  window. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

riiiiJi'  was  down  betimes  for  dinner,  a  flush  on  his  usually 
pale  cheeks,  a  liic  in  his  generally  quiet  eye.  He  was  detei*- 
mint;d  to  see  how  she  would  look  on  their  meeting. 

Lutly  and  her  father  were  almost  tlie  last  to  appear;  she,  in 
her  little  white  silk  dress,  with  tlic  cluster  of  fresh  roses,  so  like 
herself,  her  only  ornament.  The  rich  liair  was  parted  in  its 
usual  waving  lines,  the  brilliant  eyes  lookiMl  round  ns  clear  and 
happy  as  ever  :  the  pretty,  frcsli,  innocent  face,  and  the  large 
loving  hand  on  that  shoulder,  which  showed  a  fresh  dimple, 
with  every  movement ;  no  change  in  Lotty.  But  her  appear- 
ance was  greeted  by  several  voices,  among  which  Augusta's 
•was  loudest. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  103 

"  You  are  more  of  a  bear  than  ever,  you  mad  child  ;  hoAV  could 
you  ruin  Margaret's  garden  in  such  a  thoughtless  manner?" 

"  Nay,"  said  Margaret,  "  Lotty  is  privileged  ;  she  can  do  no 
wrong  to  Margaret." 

"  What  on  earth  were  you  doing,  you  two?  riding  a  race?  " 
continued  Augusta. 

"  It  looked  like  it,  did  it  not?"  returned  Lotty,  quietly. 

"Ah  !  Mr.  Leigh,  I  am  afraid  you  Jiave  been  indulging  my 
pet  in  her  favorite  amusement  — -  a  ride  across  the  country  ; 
once  set  her  off,  nothing  stops  her,"  said  Mr.  Beauvilliers. 

"  I  fully  believe  you,  sir,"  muttered  Philip,  looking  straight 
at  Lotty. 

A  furtive  smile  of  mischief  played  round  her  mouth,  for  which 
he  felt  inclined  to  punish  her  by  making  her  hear  his  proposals 
then  and  there,  before  all  the  company. 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Leigh,"  cried  Augusta,  "  you  really  should  be 
careful  how  you  follow  that  wild  thing.  I  saw,  from  my  win- 
dow, what  a  narrow  escape  you  had,  and  thought  I  should  have 
died  on  the  spot." 

"  Very  kind  of  you,  indeed,  Augusta,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  Mr. 
Leigh  seems  too  grateful  to  be  able  to  express  his  feelings." 

"■  But,  my  Lotty,  you  seem  to  me  to  have  been  rash,"  said 
her  father. 

"And  would  you  have  had  me  lose  the  race,  father?  "  pleaded 
Lottv. 

"  Then  it  was  a  race?"  asked  Augusta,  turning  to  Philip. 

"  Miss  BeauviUiers  said  it  was  a  race,"  replied  Philip  ;  "  I 
did  not." 

"You  little  fibbing  bear,  come  hei-e  directly,  and  tell  me  what 
made  you  ride  in  that  luad  manner?" 

"When  you  see  danger,  don't  you  always  run,  Augusta?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,  child ;  but  how  could  you  be  in  any  danger 
with  Mr.  Leigh  near  you  ?  " 

*'  I  was,  I  assure  you  ;  and  as  dinner  is  announced,  I  will 
give  him  leave  to  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Lotty  could  hear  Augusta  from  her  end  of  the  table  endeavor- 
ing to  extract  something  out  of  the  now  morose  Philip,  with  no 
success. 

Lotty  always  sat  by  her  father  at  dinner,  as  his  aged  fingers, 
stitFened  with  rheumatic  gout,  Avere  nearly  useless.  With  Queen 
Margaret  on  one  side,  and  her  father  on  the  other,  no  wonder 
Lotty  looked  happy  and  bright,  and  scores  of  times  made  Philip 
wish  himself  at  home,  out  of  reach  of  seeing  or  hearing  her. 


104  Margaret 

In  consequence  of  this  being  the  last  evening,  Harold  left  the 
dining-room  sooner  than  usual ;  and  knowing  that  some  hearts 
"were  sad  at  to-morrow's  parting,  he  chimed  in  very  agreeably  to 
Basil's  proposal  for  some  music  and  dancing. 

"  Come  now,  C^ueen  Meg.,  give  me  some  of  your  sweet  songs 
first,"  said  Harold  ;  "  it  is  ten  days  or  more  since  you  have  sung 
me  to  sleep  ■with  your  low,  half-melancholy  murmurings  ;  and 
you  know  how  I  like  them." 

'•  But  I  do  not,"  said  Margaret,  in  her  soft,  but  clear  tones. 
"  People  that  have  everything  they  want,  and  have  nothing  to 
be  melancholy  about,  should  have  heart-stirring,  lively  music, 
such  as  this  is."  And  jNIargaret  broke  out  into  that  brilliant 
gallop,  the  "  Sjurit  of  the  Ball." 

Basil  threw  his  arms  round  Lotty's  little  waist,  and  Avas  flying 
with  her  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  Mr.  Frank  was  whirling 
Pro.  alon?  with  irresistible  Beauvillian  force,  thou'ih  she  had  not 
an  idea  of  the  step.  Mr.  AValter  Beauvilliers  oflfered  his  arm 
politely  to  Pru.,  who  looked  helplessly  at  her  mother,  avIio 
benignly  said,  —  "Go,  my  dear."  Lady  Katheiiue  was  break- 
ing out  into  quite  a  jovial  old  dame,  and  seemed  so  inspired,  that 
her  head,  fan,  hands,  and  feet,  were  all  in  a  quiver  of  movement, 
as  if  trying  to  be  oti'  themselves  :  in  fact,  her  Avhole  appearance 
seemed  so  enthusiastic,  that  had  old  Mr.  Beau\  illiers  a  leg  to 
stand  upon,  he  felt  he  must  certainly  have  asked  her  to  get  up 
and  dance  with  him.  And  T  have  no  doubt  the  old  lady  woidd 
have  danced  (piite  as  well  as  her  daughters.  J^hilip,  lor  a 
moment,  stood  with  a  thundei'-cloud  on  his  brow  ;  he  had  seen 
an  unmistakable  look  of  intelligence  pass  between  Basil  and 
Lotly,  as  Margaret  had  answered  her  husband  —  a  look  of  Iri- 
unq)li  and  heartfelt  delight.  "Wliat  could  it  mean?  But  Augusta 
looked  appealingly  at  him  ;  he  offered  his  arm,  and  with  his  heart 
full  of  secret  anger  and  disgust,  he  bore  along  his  Iragile  and 
rather  languid  partner. 

Harold  apologized  for  not  asking  Milliccnt  to  dance,  by  saying 
he  was  aiVaiil  it  would  over-fatigue  her.  But  ^Milliccnt  Avould 
accept  nothing  liut  his  arm,  and  bore  him  olf.  And  now  as  they 
llcw  round  tlie  roouj,  Lolty  and  liasil  exchanged  smiling  looks 
with  Queen  Meg.,  the  two  Mr.  Beiiu\illians  bore  tluir  sUanbling, 
blinidering,  breathless  little  partners  round  in  a  manner  only 
]icMUvilIiaiis  conld  do,  while  Margaret  followed  her  husliand  and 
^lillicent  with  lovin-^  eves,  'riieii  llie,  gallop  changed  into  the 
swimming,  gracel'nl  w;iltz.  lOveii  Harold  began  with  alacrity  to 
dance  to  the  Prima  Douua. 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  105 

"  Charming  to  see  young  people  so  enjoy  themselves,  Madam," 
said  Mr.  Beauvilliers. 

"  I  see  no  harm,  I  must  say,"  said  Lady  Katherine,  in  a  little 
liveliness  ;  "  we  now  and  then  got  up  a  little  dance  at  court,  and 
then  we  would  sit  in  a  row,  his  gracious  Majesty  in  the  middle, 
with  her  gracious  Majesty  beside  him,  and  the  young  Princesses 
would  perform  a  minuet  —  the  minuet  de  la  cour,  which  speaks 
for  itself,  Mr.  Beauvilliers." 

"  It  does,  Madam,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  in  his  most  polite 
manner.  "My  dear  brother,"  continued  he,  to  Mr.  Robert 
Beauvilliers,  "  do  you  observe  her?" 

"  I  do,  brother,"  said  Mr.  Robert ;  "  she  is  like  a  bird,  a 
feather,  a  flake  of  snow." 

"  She  has  a  pretty  flush,"  continued  the  father. 

"  Lovely  !  my  dear  brother  ;  I  was  at  that  moment  thinking  I 
had  never  seen  her  look  so  well." 

All  being  now  breathless,  and  done  up  as  it  were,  the  music 
suddenly  stopped.  Harold  sunk  exhausted,  but  in  a  fine  flow  of 
spirits,  into  a  seat.  Lotty  had,  some  how,  sprung  from  one  step 
in  the  waltz  to  her  father's  chair.  The  two  Miss  Leighs  were 
Ie"d,  staggering  and  giddy,  with  their  hair  in  such  confusion 
as  no  one  had  ever  seen  it  before,  to  their  honored  mother,  who 
might  have  remonstrated,  had  she  known  in  what  possible  words 
to  do  it.  Such  a  thing  as  dishevelled  hair  was  not  known  at 
court. 

Then  began  Margaret  the  spirited  song  of  "  The  Old  Hoimd," 
which  she  sang  with  such  gusto,  that  the  chorus  was  taken  up  on 
all  sides  ;  and  when  the  view  halloo  Avas  to  be  given,  it  was  done 
by  every  man  in  the  room  to  his  heart's  content,  accompanied 
with  a  little  shriek  of  surprise  from  Lady  Katherine.  She  had 
never  heard  such  a  sound  before,  and  thought  the  walls  were 
coming  down  ;  she  grew  grave,  and  observed  to  Margaret,  that 
it  was  a  pretty  air  certainly,  but  surely  the  words  were  vulgar  — 
that  is,  not  meant  for  such  society ;  she  had  never  heard  of  such 
a  song  at  court. 

Whereupon,  smiling,  Margaret  said  she  would  sing  her  one 
more  ladylike,  and  calling  on  Augusta  to  join,  they  sang  "  The 
Elfin  Call."  Then  two  Mr.  Beauvillians  sang  a  duet,  a  fine, 
jovial  song.  Then  they  danced  again  ;  and  Pliilip  asked  Lotty, 
and  hearing  that  she  was  engaged  to  Harold,  wished  himself 
hanged,  or  at  the  deuce,  privately  ;  which  it  was,  matters  little, 
as  he  evidently  did  not  mean  what  he  thought. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  hilarity,  the  pompous,  gray-headed  old 


106  MARGARET 

butler  announced,  in  his  usually  grand  "way,  "  Lady  Katherine's 
chair  ;  the  Miss  Leighs's  chair." 

"  "What !  already?  "  exclaimed  Harold,  in  amazement. 

Lady  Kathcrine  adhered  to  the  good  old  fashion  of  sedan 
chairs.  But  they  had  their  inconveniences ;  for  though  sho 
might  squeeze  one  daughter  in  with  her,  she  could  not  two  ;  and 
as,  even  in  her  son's  house,  she  could  not  leave  them  behind, 
while  the  chair  took  her  the  hundred  yards  she  had  to  go,  she 
was  under  the  necessity  of  having  a  chair  for  herself  and  one 
for  the  Miss  Leighs.  To  be  sure,  after  Mr.  Frank's  proposal 
and  acceptance,  her  chair  might  have  traversed  the  hundred 
yards  a  hundred  times  before  the  other  chair  followed. 

There  was  such  Avrapping  up  of  Miss  Georgiua,  such  a  num- 
ber of  adieus,  so  many  last  words  to  be  spoken,  so  many 
important  things  to  be  said,  which  had  been  quite  forgotten  until 
that  minute ;  so  many  charges  to  Miss  Leigh  to  take  care 
of  Miss  Georgina.  All  these  things  took  up  time,  and  yet,  not- 
Avithstanding  all  this  care  and  all  those  charges,  before  Miss 
Georgina  had  lime  to  say,  "  How  polite  and  attentive  he  is  !  "  and 
Miss  Leigh  to  respond  back  in  equally  laudatory  terms,  as  they 
trotted  along,  they  have  arrived,  and  lo  !  there  was  Mr.  Frank 
at  the  door,  ready  to  help  them  out. 

And  though  this  little  amiable  scene  took  place  upon  an  aver- 
age five  nights  out  of  every  seven,  still  Miss  Georgiiui  was 
always  so  surprised  to  see  him,  and  still  Mr.  Frank  would  say, 
"  I  could  not  have  rested,  dearest  Georgina,  and  not  known  that 
you  were  safe  under  your  mother's  roof." 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

LoTTY  was  gone,  and  riiilip  was  left  behind,  and  nothing  came 
of  all  that  he  vowed  to  liinii^cli"  should  coiiu',  so  J'liilip  shut  him- 
self up. 

There  was  copious  and  abundant  weeping  on  tlie  departure  of 
the  Boauvillicrs ;  Georgina,  of  course,  cried  enough  for  ten, 
though  lovingly  assured  by  Mr.  Frank,  he  would  barely  eat, 
drink,  or  sleep  until  he  saw  her  again.  I'm.  was  too  sisterly  not 
to  join  her.  Though  Lolty  might  lia\c  a  tear  in  her  eye  when 
ehe  bade  adieu  to  Queen  Margaret,  she  was  very  unsympathetic 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  107 

in  parting  with  the  others.  Told  Pro.  not  to  cry  her  eyes  out 
ere  she  saw  her  again,  as  it  would  probably  be  inconvenient  to 
Mr.  Frank  to  have  a  blind  wife  ;  recommended  Prii.  to  take  les- 
sons from  Millicent,  in  the  proper  duties  of  a  clergyman's  wife, 
which  remark  threatened  to  leave  a  permanent  blush  on  poor 
Pru.'s  nose.  She  told  Millicent,  that,  good  people  being  scarce, 
she  hoped  to  see  her  taking  more  care  of  herself  when  they  met 
again  ;  also,  hoped  gravely,  that  Gerald  would  be  nearer  perfec- 
tion, to  which  Gerald  as  gravely  responded  in  the  same  wish. 
And  then  whispering  a  parting  piece  of  advice  to  Augusta,  not 
to  outstay  her  welcome,  Lotty  took  the  little  small  nook  that  Avas 
left  for  her  in  the  carriage  among  her  father's  cushions.  One 
Mr.  Beauvilliers  inside  with  them,  two  Mr.  Beauvilliers  outside, 
with  the  two  servants,  and  Bear  the  Great. 

As  long  as  the  carriage  was  in  sight,  hats  were  flourished  and 
handkerchiefs  waved.  Then,  in  a  parting  burst  of  grief,  Geor- 
gina  sunk  on  the  faithful  Charlotte's  shoulder,  and  was  consider- 
ately led  to  her  couch.  All  of  which  was  deemed  by  Lady 
Katherine  truly  correct  and  proper,  and  very  courtly. 

"  Harold,  Avill  you  ride  with  me  to-day?"  said  Basil,  after 
they  were  gone  ;  "  my  time  is  so  short  here  now,  that  while 
Gerald  is  occupied  in  parochial  matters,  I  am  fain  to  palm 
myself  off  on  you  for  amusement." 

Harold  had  just  lifted  up  one  of  his  beloved  French  novels, 
intending  to  ensconce  himself  in  his  easy  chair.  His  unwonted 
exertions  of  the  evening  before  had  really  made  him  rather  stiff; 
but  he  was  much  too  partial  to  Lord  Erlscoui't  to  refuse.  "  My 
dear  fellow !  with  pleasure.  I  dare  say  the  ride  will  take  off 
my  aches,  too ;  though,  unless  I  had  the  inducement  of  your 
company,  I  don't  think  I  should  stir." 

"  Ha ! "  said  Harold,  as  they  passed  the  same  farm-house 
where  Lotty  had  asked  for  water,  "  what  are  they  doing  here  ? 
They  seem  to  be  repairing  the  place.  High  time,  too,  idle,  lazy 
rascals !  " 

"  This  is  a  wonderfully  rich  country,"  said  Lord  Erlscourt. 

"  I  believe  it  is,"  returned  Harold ;  "  but  the  worst  for 
tenants  in  the  world.  I  cannot  get  any,  and  when  I  have  them 
they  won't  pay,  or  they  run  away." 

"  What  sort  of  steward  have  you?" 

"  O,  a  rascal,  like  the  rest  of  them  !  There  really  is  no 
honesty  about  this  place,  and  I  am  sick  of  it." 

"  It  is  a  lovely  country,"  said  Basil. 

"  I  allow  it  is,  and  I  believe  I  should  be  fond  of  it  if  I  were 


108  MARGARET 

not  po  hai'assed  and  teased.  Lying  on  the  grass  among  the 
flowers,  looking  at  the  fine  old  trees,  from  them  to  the  gray, 
picturesque  old  house,  -with  Margaret  ruuuiug  jihout  after  her 
boy,  I  have  often  thought  few  could  have  a  home  so  beautiful." 

"  I  don't  quite  know,"  said  Basil,  smiling,  "  what  harasses 
you?" 

"  Why,  you  know,  when  I  left  you,  I  intended  profiting  by 
your  example,  and  looking  after  my  affairs.  My  dear  fellow, 
•whether  from  design  or  not.  Price,  my  agent,  complicated  the 
simplest  matters  to  such  a  degree,  that  I  grcAv  quite  sick  of 
them.  Then,  the  moment  it  was  known  that  I  was  investijiatinor 
matters,  such  a  host  of  complaining  tenants  came  about  me,  I 
•was  nearly  mobbed ;  I  had  no  peace  night  or  day.  Their 
demands  were  exorbitant,  and  their  wants  so  many,  that  at  last 
I  gave  up  the  Avhole  thing  in  disgust ;  and  as  they  one  and  all 
complained  of  Price,  I  thought  the  best  way  was  to  hand  them 
all  over  to  him,  and  they  would  be  sick  of  complaining." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  will  act  conscientiously  by  them?"  said 
Basil. 

"  I  neither  know  nor  care  ;  my  rent-roll  is  £7000  a  year,  and 
he  must  find  it  ;  and  as  long  as  he  does,  I  don't  think  I  need 
trouble  myself." 

As  he  spoke,  the  tall  figure  of  the  rector  appeared  in  sight. 
He  advanced  to  meet  them,  glowing  with  health  and  apparent 
satisfaction.  "  My  dear  Sir  Harold,"  said  he,  taking  his  hand 
■with  great  eagerness,  "  allow  me  to  congratulate  you.  Suffer 
me  to  say  hoAv  delighted  I  am." 

"At  what?"  said  Harold,  coldly;  for,  like  all  persons  whose 
consciences  will  make  themselves  heard  sometimes,  he  Avas  only 
the  )nore  j)ertinacious  in  refusing  advice.  And  like  one  angry 
dog  meeting  another,  the  meetings  of  Sir  Harold  and  Gerald 
Herbert  raised  within  the  breast  of  each  an  instant  spirit  of 
opposijtion,  as  the  dogs'  pugnacious  feelings  raised  their  bristles. 

"  The  Wilcoxes,  Sir  Harold  ;  those  poor  creatures  about 
whom  I  have  spoken  to  you  so  often." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  them,"  said  Harold,  the  bristles  of  his 
mind  beginning  to  rise. 

"  Why,  my  dear  felloAv,"  said  the  warm-hearted,  energetic 
rector,  "  you  are  repairing  their  place,  you  are  roofing  their 
barns,  you  have  lent  them  money  to  commence  life  anew,  and 
I  honor  you  for  it.  I  love  you  fti-  rdusiiig  yourself  at  last, 
shaking  off  the  dull,  apathetic  sloth  that  iulhralled  you  like  a 
coil  of  nets." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  109 

"  I  know  nothing  of  what  you  are  speaking  about,  and  I'll 
thank  you  not  to  dictate  a  line  of  conduct  to  me,"  said  Harold, 
interrupting  him,  with  every  bristle  in  a  perpendicular  state. 

Had  Gerald  said,  coldly  and  deprecatinglj',  "  How  foolish  you 
are  to  repair  that  old  place  ! "  Harold  was  of  that  disposition,  he 
woidd  have  ordered  it  to  be  done  at  any  cost. 

Now  the  well-meaning,  but  injudicious  Mr.  Herbert  had  raised 
a  hornet's  nest  about  him,  and  without  in  the  least  knowin":  how 
he  could  have  offended,  he  yet  was  obliged  to  see  Sir  Harold 
ride  off  in  a  high  state  of  wrath  and  indignation. 

"  Your  brother-in-law  is  a  fool,"  said  he,  at  last,  to  Lord 
Erlscourt. 

"  He  is  injudicious,  but  no  fool,"  said  Basil. 

"  Did  you  hear  all  tliat  rigmarole  about  apathy  and  sloth?" 

"  He  is  so  active  himself  that  he  does  not  understand  your 
dolce  far  niente  character." 

"  I  wish  his  activity  would  not  lead  him  to  meddle  with  me 
and  my  aftairs  ;  I  wonder  who  has  ordered  the  Wilcoxes'  place 
to  be  repaired.  That  was  it  we  passed  just  now,  with  the  work- 
men about." 

"  It  seemed  to  want  it,"  said  Basil,  carelessly. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  it  wanted  it,  and  so  does  everything  under 
that  rascal  Price's  care  ;  but  I  won't  be  dictated  to  by  Herbert. 
I  shall  find  out  who  ordered  those  repairs,  and  have  them 
stopped." 

Basil  began  talking  of  his  intention,  to  have  a  yacht  in  the 
ensuing  summer.  "  In  bringing  up  boys,"  said  he,  "  I  fancy  it 
a  good  thing  to  let  them  see  a  little  of  everything.  My  half- 
brothers  are  fine  fellows,  but  have  a  good  deal  of  rather  wild 
blood  in  them.  I  mean,  therefore,  to  try  the  experiment  of 
always  keeping  their  active  frames,  and  still  more  active  minds, 
in  constant  exercise." 

In  this  sort  of  conversation  Basil  so  beguiled  the  time,  that 
Harold  became  cool,  and  talkc  I  of  having  a  yacht  himself,  Avith 
evident  interest. 

On  the  two  ladies,  Margaret  and  Augusta,  retiring  after  din- 
ner, Harold  began  instantly  to  exclaim  —  (Basil  had  seen  t!iat 
something  had  occurred  to  disturb  the  smooth  temper  Avith 
which  they  parted  before  dinner) — "  Do  you  know  it  is  Mar- 
garet who  ordered  those  repairs  at  the  Wilcoxes.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  fellow  Herbert  set  her  on." 

"  I  think  he  would  not  have  greeted  you  in  the  manner  he 
did  if  he  thought  it  had  been  Lady  Leigh's  act." 
10 


110  MARGARET 

"  True,  he  did  seem  surprised,  and  also  never  mentioned 
Margaret's  name.  Erlscourt,  1  had  a  scene  with  Margaret,  the 
first  since  we  married.  I  did  not  know  women  could  be  so 
obstinate.  Bnt,  however,  I  won't  give  in  ;  I  said  the  AVilcoxes' 
place  should  not  bo  repaired,  and  it  shall  not." 

"  I  do  not  think  Margaret  is  obstinate  ;  I  have  known  her 
from  a  child,"  said  Basil. 

"  So  you  did,  and,  by-the-by,  I  often  wondered  you  never  fell 
in  love  with  her,  Erlscourt.  I  did  so  with  only  looking  at  her, 
much  less  speaking  to  her." 

"  I  did,"  said  Basil,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  How  !  what  ?  "  returned  Harold,  rousing  himself. 

"  From  the  time  I  was  ten  years  old,  imtil  I  was  two-and- 
twenty,  I  loved  your  Margaret ;  loved  her,  not  with  a  boy's 
uflection,  not  with  a  youth's  fancy,  but  as  a  man,  who  gives  his 
heart  unto  the  Eve  of  his  Paradise,  and  sees  no  other  woman, 
knows  no  other  love,  feels  nothing  but  that  he  would  be  her 
Adam." 

"  This  to  me,  her  husband  ?  " 

"  This  to  you,  her  husband.  Now  listen  ;  from  the  time  when, 
a  little  feeble  boy,  I  ran  twelve  miles  through  ihc  forest  paths, 
more  intent  upon  rescuing  my  sister  from  cruel  treatment,  than 
any  fate  that  might  occur  to  me.  I  recall  that  painful,  weary 
journey,  with  pleasure  —  it  introduced  mc  to  Margaret.  The 
sorrows  and  hardships  of  my  early  years  1  learned  to  bless  ;  they 
paved  the  way  to  my  meeting  INIargaret.  I  watched  her  as  she 
grew,  month  by  month,  year  by  year,  gentle  in  spirit,  but 
strong  in  hne,  pliant  in  small  things,  tirni  in  affection.  I  grew 
impatient  to  take  possession  of  this  opening  flower,  and  fearing 
that  I  could  not  control  myself,  I  went  abroad  to  ])ass  the  time, 
until  her  school-girl  days  were  over.  You  camo  and  gathered 
my  cherished  woodland  flower." 

"  Dear  Basil,  I  pity  you.  Had  I  but  known,  —  no,  I  can  say 
nothing  ;  I  feel  I  could  not  have  given  her  up.  My  dear  Basil, 
on  my  soul,  I  pity  you  I  "  And  he  held  out  his  hand,  his  heart 
beating  with  emotion. 

Basil  grasped  it  cordially,  continuing,  "  I  knew  her  nature 
BO  well,  that  once  her  young  heart  was  given,  it  was  given  for- 
ever." 

"  I  believe  it,"  exclaimed  Harold,  as  the  image  of  the  fair 
young  bride  rose  before  his  view,  casting  on  him  that  one  look 
of  love  and  gratitude. 

"  So  I  gave  myself  for  a  task,  the  purifying  my  heart  of  love 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  Ill 

for  her,  so  that  it  might  be  such  as  it  ought,  for  the  wife  of 
another  man.  And  you  will  not  credit  my  first  confidence,  if 
you  believe  not  the  second ;  my  love  for  Margaret  is  as  that  of  a 
fond  brother." 

"  I  cannot  but  believe  you,  Basil,  and  I  thank  you  for  your 
confidence.     I  think  you  have  a  motive  in  it  —  tell  it  me." 

"  You  think  Margaret  but  a  loving,  rather  simple  girl ! " 

"  She  is  loving,  and,  as  you  say,  I  think  her  more  loving  than 
wise." 

"  Then  you  must  believe  the  word  of  a  man,  who  so  loved  her 
before  you  ever  saw  her,  that  the  innermost  chamber  of  his  heart 
seems  shut  forever.     She  is  more,  much  more." 

"  I  shall  think  with  pride,  Basil,  of  the  love  she  gained  in  so 
noble  a  heart,  even  from  a  child." 

"  Then  the  object  of  my  confidence  is  gained.  Trust  her, 
you  will  never  repent  it ;  consult  her,  you  will  have  the  advice 
of  a  devoted  heart  and  clear  head.  Let  her  be  your  helpmeet 
indeed,  and  not  the  pretty,  pleasant  companion  of  your  own 
hours  of  pastime.     Before  you  both  are  set  other  tasks  to  do." 

"  I  understand  you.  But,  Basil,  tell  me  this  :  is  it  true  that 
your  heart  is  closed  against  all  love?" 

"No,  Harold,"  said  Basil,  smiling  cheerfully  ;  '"  against  none. 
In  ray  short  life  I  have  seen  enough  to  know  that  protestations 
do  not  become  weak  man.  Depend  upon  it,  the  more  vehement 
and  public  his  proclamation  that  his  determination  is  fixed,  and 
his  will,  like  the  ancient  laws  of  Medes  and  Persians,  unalter- 
able, then  heaven  and  earth,  man  and  beast,  everything  and 
nothing,  seem  in  a  league  together  to  make  him  eat  his  words." 

"  You  never  said  anything  more  true  ;  I  am  a  living  instance 
of  it  this  day.  For  now  you  shall  see  if  your  lesson  is  thrown 
away,  or  your  confidence  misplaced.  Queen  Margaret,"  said 
he,  opening  the  drawing-room  door,  "  tell  that  rascal.  Price,  to 
hurry  on  with  Wilcox's  place,  and  get  it  finished  immediately." 

Margaret's  eyes  looked  up,  with  that  one  never-forgotten 
look  ;  but  she  only  said,  "  Thank  you,  Harold." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Basil,"  whispered  he,  "  she  is  remark- 
ably sensible  ;  now,  if  she  had  gone  off  into  heroics,  and  teased 
me  Avith  ecstasies,  I,  perhaps,  should  have  changed  my  mind 
again.  You  saw  that  look  !  Humph,  well !  is  not  that  worth 
something?     Ah  !  my  dear  Basil,  I  forgot." 

"  Pray  don't  apologize,"  said  Basil,  laughing  heartily  at 
Harold's  change  of  countenance  from  the  exulting  to  the  com- 
miserating;  "I  wOl  go  and  have  a  little  flirtation  with  Miss 
Clare." 


112  MARGARET 

Harold  Tras  well  content,  and  seated  himself  near  his  Mar- 
garet, saying  quietly,  "  Pretty,  striking-looking  girl !  but  a  poor 
comjilimont  to  pay  Margaret,  if  he  does  choose  her  after  all." 

Basil  had  estimated  Harold's  r-haractcr  very  justly.  At  pres- 
ent he  was  only  valuing  his  a\  ife  according  to  the  appreciation 
of  others :  she  was  the  best,  sweetest,  dearest  wife  in  the  world, 
but  nothing  more.  Now  he  looked  at  her  to-night  with,  as  it 
were,  new  eyes,  penetrating  and  observant. 

Augusta  really  needed  a  little  consolation.  Sorely  in  her 
heart  dwelt  Lotty's  last  words,  inasmuch  as  she  was  quite  aware 
that  her  conduct  had  been  such  as  to  make  the  hint  desirable. 
That  she  must  flirt  was  necessary  to  her  existence  —  that  is,  she 
tliought  so.  But  in  one  or  two  instances,  she  had  gone  to  such 
gi-eat  lengths,  that,  spite  of  her  beauty  and  elegant  carriage, 
Lady  Katheriue  had  much  ado  to  restrain  the  indignant  feelings 
roused  by  her  quondam  favorite.  It  was  not  so  nuich  with 
Philip  and  Lord  Erlscourt ;  but  if  they  were  not  Avithin  reach, 
she  ])lanted  herself  by  the  side  -of  the  not  always  conscious 
Harold,  and  disported  herself  at  his  expense.  Once  or  twice 
Lotty  had  made  some  sarcastic  remarks,  which  only  drew  from 
Augusta  the  words,  "  Margaret  does  not  care  ;  what  business  is 
it  of  yours?"  Augusta  had,  beside,  the  uncomfortable  feeling 
of  knowing  that  Lord  Erlscourt  was  quite  indill'crcut  to  her 
charms  and  manners  ;  and  she  more  tluin  half  suspected  that 
Pliilip  Leigh  had  aljatod  of  his  loyalty.  And  while  she  tried  to 
pooh-pooh  the  idea,  that  the  odious  little  Bear  had  lured  him 
from  his  allegiance,  it  would  force  itself  into  notice,  try  all  she 
could.  "  Not  outstay  my  welcome,  indeed  !  I  will  stay  until  I 
have  secured  Philip  Leigh,  if  it  is  only  to  spite  that  child,  who, 
I  believe,  thinks  he  is  in  love  with  her."  What  means  she  used, 
liistory  saith  not ;  but  that  she  met  Philip  most  days,  both  Mar- 
garet and  INIillicent  knew.  And  they  wei-e  daily  expecting  tlie 
announ<'cment  of  an  engagement  between  them,  when  Margaret 
was  summoned  to  her  father's  dying  bed. 

In  Jiastc  and  sorrow  the  party  at  Court  Leigh  broke  up.  Mil- 
llccni  and  Cicrald  Avere  h-ft  alone  ;  for  T^ady  Katiiorine  had 
deemed  it  proj)er  to  have  Pro.'s  marriage  celebrated  iu  Loudon. 
And  the  time  drew  near. 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  113 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Ant  excitement  that  Philip  had  been  undergoing  through 
Auo'usta's  instrumentality,  was  now  gone,  leaving  a  dull  blank 
behind.  Moody,  irritable,  and  murmuring,  the  image  of  the 
little,  wild,  wicked  thing  forever  haunted  him. 

"  I  will  go,"  said  he  at  last,  "  and  demand  her  hand  formally 
of  her  father  —  anything  is  better  than  this  horrid  state  of 
uncertainty.  If  I  am  refused  —  I  am  refused ;  but  I  will  be 
revenged." 

Philip  went,  and  was  received  at  Beau-court  in  a  truly  hospi- 
table manner.  He  was  a  Leigh,  cousin  to  those  Leighs  who  had 
entertained  their  chieftain,  their  girl,  and  their  kinsmen  so  hos- 
pitably. It  behooved  the  Beauvillians  to  show  theirs  in  return 
to  so  honored  a  guest.  Philip's  better  nature  expanded  under 
the  frank,  jovial  hands  of  this  hospitable  tribe.  Not  a  Beauvil- 
lian  but  asked  him  to  dine,  sleep,  sup,  live  with  him  ;  and  when, 
after  three  weeks'  sojourn  among  them,  any  one  had  asked  their 
opinion  of  Philip  Leigh,  every  Beauvillian,  from  his  heart, 
would  have  exclaimed,  "  He  is  a  right  good  fellow."  But  a 
deep  silence  fell  on  the  whole  tribe,  when  Philip  publicly  and 
formally  demanded  the  hand  of  their  girl.  They  were  like  bees 
just  learning  that  theu*  queen  was  gone,  and  then,  like  bees, 
rushed  into  a  frantic  commotion.  Not  even  her  birth  created  a 
greater  sensation. 

"  Our  girl  is  asked  in  marriage,"  said  one  to  the  other  when 
they  met. 

"  A  right  worthy  fellow,"  says  the  other,  back  again. 

"  She  is  young,"  says  one. 

"  To  be  asked  in  marriage,"  says  the  other. 

"  But  she  is  so  sensible,"  says  one. 

"  Yes,  wonderful,"  says  the  other. 

"Will  she  have  him?"  says  one. 

"  She  won't  leave  her  father,"  says  the  other. 

"  I  knew  it,"  said  both. 

At  Beau-court  a  full  conclave  was  held  ;  Philip  in  the  midst, 
opposite  Mr.  Beauvilliers.  "  AVe  duly  appreciate  your  offer  — 
we  respect  you,  Mr.  Leigh  ;  but  my  little  child,  my  pretty  Lotty 
—  I  have  not  long  to  live,  and  I  could  not  live  that  short  time 
without  her."     Thus  said  Mr.  BeauvUliers,  and  all  his  kinsmen 

10* 


114  MARGARET 

echoed  his  words  —  "  The  child  must  not  be  separated  from  her 
father." 

"  Never  !  O,  never  !  "  said  Philip,  earnestly  ;  "  I  will  wait, 
wait  montlis,  years.  I  Avill  leave  my  hoiue  altogether,  and  live 
only  amongst  you,  if  I  may  but  hope." 

"■Wtv  handf^ome  proposal  —  very  generous.  How  he  loves 
her  !  Excellent  young  man  !  he  deserves  her."  Thus  exclaimed* 
the  Beauvillians,  while  the  aged  father  clasped  Philip's  hand, 
and  said,  "■  Sir,  that  removes  my  difficulty.  I  own  that  I  would 
wish  to  take  to  her  mother  the  assurance  that  her  little  daughter 
was  happy  in  the  afiections  of  a  fond  husband,  as  she  herself 
was.  1  own  that  I  should  like  to  know  my  little  one's  likely  lot, 
ere  I  leave  her.  Now  it  seems  to  me,  sir,  that  I  would  rather 
give  her  to  you  than  any  one  that  I  know  ;  for  you  bear  the 
name  of  Leigh,  the  name  she  likes  so  much  ;  you  live  near  the 
being  whom  she  loves  next  to  her  father.  If,  sir,  you  can  gain 
her  affections,  and  if  you  will  dwell  here,  with  me,  at  Bcau- 
cotu't,  until  I  receive  my  last  summons,  take  her,  and,  with  her, 
my  heartl'elt,  soul-breathed  prayers  for  you  both." 

Philip  kissed  tlie  old  man's  hand  with  deep  emotion,  and  good 
and  noble  thoughts  filled  his  soul,  reflecting  themselves  through 
his  eyes,  so  as  to  make  the  good  Beauvillians  think,  as  they 
gazed  upon  him,  "  he  is  worthy  of  our  girl." 

So  she  was  sent  for,  innocent  little  victim,  to  give  her  answer 
befoi'e  the  scrutinizing  eyes  of  her  loving  kinsmen. 

She  entered  the  room  in  Jicr  simple  white  frock,  her  large  hat 
full  of  autumn  roses,  her  great  Bear  by  her  side.  She  took  her 
seat  in  an  imconccrued  and  simple  manner,  on  her  usual  place, 
her  father's  chair. 

"IMy  little  Lotty,  you  know  that  Mr.  Philip  demands  your 
hand  in  marriage." 

"  Yes,  iatlier,"  said  Lotty,  throwing  a  rose  at  the  big  Bear. 

"  AVe  consent  to  the  marriage,  if  you  do,  dearest  one." 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  marry,"  said  Lotty. 

'•  I  know,  my  pet,  you  will  not  leave  me.  But  Mr.  Leigh  will 
quit  liis  own  home,  and  settle  among  us,  while  I  remain  with 
my  Lotty  on  earth  ;  then  I  shall  know  when  1  am  gone  that  she 
is  in  tlie  cai'e  ui'  a  kind  husband." 

"  T  am  too  young  to  marry,"  again  said  Lotty. 

*••  Young  in  years,  my  darling,  yet  old  in  thouglit  and  wisdom. 
But  yruir  fond  old  fatlier  woidd  like  to  know  that  you  had  a 
home  of  your  own.  thougli  1  know  full  well  every  home  amongst 
us  is  0])cu  to  you." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  115 

"It  Is,  it  is— we  should  be  proud  —  all  we  have  —  nothing 
should  we  delight  in  so  much,  as  to  give  a  home  to  our  girl." 

It  was  some  time  ere  order  could  be  restored ;  the  vehemence 
with  which  every  Beauvilliau  spoke  from  his  heart  was  very 
nearly  ending  in  a  scene  ;  for  Bear  began  to  fancy  some  one  was 
about  to  hurt  his  little  mistress. 

However,  order  being  restored,  again  Mr.  Beauvilliers  spoke  : 
"  Mr.  Leigh  seems  in  every  vray  worthy  of  my  Lotty,  though 
perhaps  we  don't  think  any  one  can  be  quite.  Then,  when  time 
carries  you  to  your  new  home,  you  will  live  near  your  beloved 
school-fellow,  Lady  Leigh." 

For  the  first  time  Lotty  looked  up,  as  if  listening.  "  Don't 
you  thiuk,  father,  I  am  very  young  to  marry  ?  " 

"  You  are,  my  child,  and  I  should  not  urge  it,  but  for  the 
reasons  I  have  mentioned  before.  I  should  wish  to  see  you 
married  ere  I  die." 

"  Do  you  Avish  me  to  marry  Philip  Leigh,  father?  " 

"  If  you  can  love  him,  yes,  my  child." 

Lotty  lifted  up  those  matchless,  radiant  eyes,  and  looked  at 
Philip.  He  returned  her  glance,  with  the  feelings  so  lately  men- 
tioned glowing  from  his  eyes.  "  I  wiU  try,  father,  if  you  wish 
it." 

Philip  fell  on  one  knee,  and  kissed  the  little  hand  half  held  out 
to  him.  "  I  desire  no  more — I  will  ask  no  more,"  he  said. 
"  Deeply  do  I  thank  you  for  the  permission  you  have  given  me." 

As  the  Beauvillians  afterwards  declared  to  each  other,  "  The 
scene  was  beautiful ;  the  young  man  behaved  in  the  most  noble, 

charming  manner  ;  and  as  for  their  girl "     But  such  ecstat- 

ics  can  only  be  tolerated  among  the  Beauvillians  themselves. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

Maegaret  arrived  in  time  to  see  her  father  alive,  receive  his 
blessing,  and  watch  his  aged  eyes  linger  proudly  on  the  features 
of  her  noble  boy.  Then,  Avith  his  hand  clasped  within  that  of  his 
wife,  he  said,  "  I  think,  Auue,  we  did  Avell  to  let  our  Margaret 
marry,"  and  so  fell  asleep,  with  the  happy  smile  of  content  on 
his  lips.  A  few  words,  only  audible  to  that  fond  and  faitliful 
ear,  "  I  feel  at  peace  with  God  and  man,"  were  uttered  by  those 


116  MARGARET 

feeble  lips,  and  then  they  spoke  no  more.     From  sleep  he  passed 
into  his  immortal  life. 

Margaiet  and  her  mother  mourned  together,  and  the  kind, 
ever-ready  Ba^il  took  charge  of  Harold.  It  needed  little  on  his 
part  to  increa.'^e  Harold's  esteem  and  atlection  for  him. 

At  no  moment  of  the  day  was  Lord  Erlscourt  unemployed ; 
and,  as  he  seemed  to  count  upon  Harold's  help  and  assistance  in 
all  he  did,  the  latter  found  himself  become  unaccountably  a 
man  of  business. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  would  Basil  say,  "  you  Avill  help  me 
amazingly  if  you  would  continue  marking  that  plantation  for  me 
tliat  we  began  yesterday.  I  have  to  be  oil'  twelve  miles  iu 
a  different  direction  to  attend  a  county  court." 

80  Harold  would  blaze  away  at  the  trees  half  the  day,  and 
get  quite  excited  about  the  number. 

l\'rliaj)S  Basil  would  say,  "  Here  is  rather  a  difficult  case  to 
settle  between  the  keepers  and  some  wood  stealers  ;  will  you, 
Leigh,  kindly  hear  the  matter  over  for  me?  They  generally 
imairine  1  am  interested." 

So  Harold  would  cull  forth  his  best  judgment,  and  really 
looked  like  a  pleased  school-boy  when  Basil  remarked,  "  How 
quick  you  are,  Harold,  at  judging  character." 

Sometimes  they  would  visit  buildings  under  repair,  so  that 
during  the  month  of  Margaret's  seclusion,  rarely  did  Harold  re- 
turn to  her,  after  a  hard  day's  work  with  Basil,  l)ut  in  happier, 
licaltliier,  more  genial  glow  than  when  he  left.  And  Margaret 
blessed  Basil  in  her  heart. 

One  day  she  said  to  Harold,  "  My  kind  father  has  left  me 
fifteen  thousand  pounds;  will  you,  dear  Harold,  take  it,  and  use 
it  to  put  our  estate  iu  some  such  order  as  tliis  is?" 

'•  I  don't  lliiiik  we  can  do  it.  Queen  JMeg.  The  people  there 
are  so  dilferent  from  here.     They  are  not  grateful." 

"  Tliey  are  very  grateful,  but  they  have  never  had  cause  to 
show  gratitude  to  us." 

"  "Well,  iMeg,  I  will  think  about  it.  Some  how,  I  fancy 
nothing  good  at  Court  Leigli." 

"  Dear  Iliirold,  our  home,  tlie  birthplace  of  our  boy  !  " 

"  All  very  true  ;  but  there  must  be  something  obstinate  and 
aggravating  iu  the  air." 

Margaret  laughed,  an<l  said,  "  ()!  if  you  are  joking,  I  sliall 
say  no  more  ;   but  1  will  s|)end  my  money  as  I  ciioose." 

"  Ah  I  I  SCO  you  find  Hampshire  air  just  as  bad  for  your  con- 
stitution as  I  do  Cheshire.      But  listen,  wife.     I  am  about  to 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  117 

leave  you  for  a  few  days  ;  Basil  is  going  to  Cowes,  to  see  after  a 
yacht  he  fancies,  and  if  I  see  one  I  like,  I  shall  buy  it  also.  You 
won't  fear  letting  me  away  from  your  apron-strings,  with  such  a 
nurse  as  Basil  to  look  after  your  big  baby." 

'^  No,  no  !  "  said  Margaret ;  "  but  you  will  -write  often?  " 

"  Every  hour,  I  suppose,"  said  Harold. 

"  I  should  like  that ;  but  I  will  let  you  off,  and  ask  for  a 
letter  only  every  other  day,"  returned  Margaret. 

"We  are  also  going  to  make  an  excursion  to  see  his  boys, 
as  he  calls  them.  If  they  have  been  good,  they  are  to  go  with 
us  to  see  the  yacht,  it  being  principally  for  their  amusement  that 
he  buys  one." 

"  How  good  Basil  is." 

"  Extraordinary,  Queen  Meg  ;  and  I  have  generally  a  horror 
of  such  sorts  of  kine  ;  they  seem  to  be  a  perpetual  species  of 
blister  or  repi'oach.  But  Basil  is  so  fearless  and  independent,  so 
daring,  if  I  may  use  the  word.  He  is  first  in  all  the  night- 
watches  we  have  been  lately  having,  and  does  all  those  sorts  of 
manly  things  ;  yet  he  is  as  kind-hearted,  tender,  and  good  as  a 
woman  —  as  you,  Margaret." 

"  I  hope  he  is  rather  more  firm  in  character  tlian  I  am.  But 
when  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  To-mom'ow." 

Harold  kept  his  word  for  a  few  days,  and  wrote,  as  promised, 
very  happy  letters. 

"  I  have  seen  the  boys,"  said  one,  "  those  wicked  little  fellows 
that  used  to  plague  Basil's  life  out  at  Erlscourt,  and  you  would 
not  know  them.  They  are  splendid  fellows  to  look  at,  rather  of 
the  gypsy  or  Spanish  order ;  and  then  their  love  for  Basil  is 
quite  wonderful  —  a  word  or  look  from  him  is  enough.  He 
must  be  an  extraordinary  character  thus  to  have  tamed  down 
those  two  cubs.  They  make  such  a  handsome  picture,  the  fair 
Saxon  Basil  and  the  two  Murillo-looking  boys  hanging  about 
him,  all  looking  one  more  happy  than  another. 

"  I  have  bought  a  yacht,  and  ordered  her  to  be  refitted  and 
got  ready  for  a  summer  cruise  ;  also,  I  have  determined  to  call 
her  '  The  Marguerite,'  after  some  one  whom  I  am  not  supposed 
to  love  much  ;  or  if  you  prefer  the  namd"  of  '  The  Pearl,'  write 
and  say  so  —  it  expresses  your  name  as  well.  By  the  by,  I  met 
your  friend,  Miss  Clare,  looking  Avretchedly  ill.  They  say  she 
has  been  jilted  by  Philip  ;  but  Philip  writes  and  tells  me  he  is 
-engaged  to  your  Lotty.  I  am  afraid  Philip  has  been  a  sad  dog 
—  and  really,  of  the  two,  Miss  Clare  is  best-lookiug,  your  Lotty 


118  MARGARET 

is  such  a  child.  However,  I  cheered  her  np,  and  invited  her  to 
take  a  cruise  with  us  iu  the  summer.  She  did  not  seem  to  me  in 
good  humor  eidier." 

lu  another  letter,  he  stated,  "  that  Basil  had  also  bought  his 
yacht,  and  meant  to  call  her  '  The  Ripple.'  That  he  had  at- 
tended a  very  gay  wedding,  the  bride  being  Margaret's  last  re- 
maining bridesmaid.  1  fancy,"  continued  Harold,  in  the  letter, 
"  that  is  what  has  been  troubling  Miss  Clare's  nerves.  Here 
you  are,  all  married  now,  excepting  herself,  and  she  was  de- 
cidedly the  most  striking  among  you  in  personal  appearance.  It 
required  a  diseorning  i'cllow,  like  myself,  to  select  the  flower  from 
this  flock.  If  you  will  grant  me  longer  leave  of  absence,  I  intend 
to  take  a  run  up  to  London,  to  see  Pro.  married ;  and  I  have 
met  a  few  old  friends  here  also.  I  leave  Basil  to  go  home  by 
himself." 

Harold  was  absent  about  a  month,  and  then  returned  to  take 
Margaret  home.  His  presence  was  necessary  there,  too.  Mat- 
ters had  come  to  tliat  pass  on  the  estates  of  Court  Leigh,  that 
Harold's  late  trial  of  business,  under  Basil's  tuition,  was  likely 
to  be  called  into  immediate  and  sharp  requisition. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

TnouoH  Philip  was  in  the  enviable  position  of  Lotty's  ac- 
cepted lover,  and  ought  to  liave  been,  and  was  considered  to  be, 
in  the  seventh  heaven,  he  felt  himself,  at  times,  in  just  the  oppo- 
site condition.  The  little,  wild,  wicked  thing  was  wilder,  more 
wicked  than  ever  to  him.  Loving,  dutiful,  and  incessant  in  her 
attentions  to  her  father,  merry,  Imppy.  and  affect icmate  to  all  her 
relations,  doting  on  tlie  big  Bear,  to  Piiilip  she  was  a  provoking, 
leasing,  everhisting  torment.  He  chafed  and  fumed  himself  into 
a  fever,  and  tlien  shivered  and  shook  himself  out  of  it. 

"  Lotty,"  he  said,  at  hist,  in  a  sort  of  fit  of  desperation,  ''is 
this  the  sort  of  way  in  whit-h  you  mean  me  to  court  you  for  my 
wife?" 

"  I  never  asked  you  to  marry  me  ;  indeed  I  almost  broke  my 
neck  to  avoid  paining  you  by  a  refusal." 

"  You  did,"  he  sai<1,  his  eyes  flashing,  "  you  did,  indeed;  and 
I  shall  never  forget  your  kindness." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  119 

"  I  never  imagined,  after  that  hint,"  said  Lotty,  quietly,  "  you 
would  trouble  yourself  about  me  again." 

"  Trouble  myself?  Ah,  Lotty,  if  you  would  but  hear  me.  I 
would  tell  you  that  my  feelings  are " 

"  Stay  !"  said  Lotty,  "let  us  be  serious.  Do  you  mean  really 
you  are  in  earnest  in  your  desire  to  make  me  your  wife?" 

"  Good  heavens  !  Avhat  ha^e  I  done  to  make  you  think  other- 
wise for  a  moment?"  cried  Philip. 

"  I  did  not  imagine  that  a  man  of  your  age  and  experience 
would,  in  reality,  wish  to  bind  himself  down  for  life  to  one  so 
childish  in  every  way,  so  deficient  in  all  the  requisite  qualities 
of  a  wife.  Nay  !  hear  me  out,  Mr.  Leigh.  Oue  also  of  whom 
you  know  so  little  ;  Avho  has,  in  no  way,  returned  your  affection, 
who  does  not  even  wish  to  make  the  trial.  Come,  confess  now 
at  once  that  your  fancy  is  over,  and  that  you  and  Lotty  will  ever 
be  friends,  but  not  lovers." 

Philip  pressed  his  hand  over  his  heart,  which  raged  with  in- 
ward passion,  as  he  heard  these  calm,  cool  words.  His  lips 
grew  white,  his  cheek  pale. 

"  O  Philip  !  "  said  Lotty,  startled,  "  what  is  the  matter  ;  are 
you  ill?" 

"  And  it  is  thus,"  he  gasped  out  at  length,  "  that  you  consider 
a  passion  Avhich  is  more  to  me  than  life." 

"Nay,  you  must  excuse  me,"  said  Lotty.  "Remember,  I 
have  seen  you  with  Augusta  Clare.  But  I  go  to  bring  you  some 
water." 

During  her  absence,  Philip  gave  voice  to  his  passion,  though 
alone. 

"  Wild,  Avilful,  wicked,  little  thing,  she  shall  be  mine  ;  hers  is 
the  spirit  I  have  often  longed  to  curb  and  break  in.  I  will  make 
her  love  me  ;  she  shall — madly,  wildly,  devotedly  as  I  love  even 
the  shadow  of  her  form,  it  shall  be  the  business  of  my  life  to  make 
her  love  me  as  vehemently.  Hitherto,  no  love  has  entered  her 
heart ;  as  yet  she  is,  as  she  says,  a  child.  No  matter  ;  I  mean 
so  to  act,  that,  with  her  father's  consent,  I  keep  my  vantage 
gi'ound  here.  But  this  strange,  weary  feeling  at  my  heart  — 
what  can  it  mean  ?  " 

Lotty  left  him  immediately  after  bringing  the  water,  and 
Philip  felt  that  it  was  as  well,  for  his  passion  had  overcome 
him.  He  had  now  to  learn,  if  he  had  never  known  it  before, 
that  to  nurse  and  cherish  an  evil  disease  in  one's  heart,  must 
wear  out  that  heart  in  some  way. 


120  MARGARET 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

As  has  been  intimated,  the  Beauvilliers  were  not  so  wise  as 
they  were  amiable.  Philip  laid  hiiuself  out  to  please  them  all, 
and  -was  as  devoted  in  his  attentions  to  Mr.  Beauvilliers  as  bis 
dearest  sou. 

The  old  man  began  to  look  upon  and  treat  him  as  such  ;  and 
•while  his  mortal  disease  grew  stronger,  his  mental  faculties  and 
discernment  seemed  to  centre  themselves  more  particularly  on 
"what  was  around  him,  than  a  more  enlarged  space.  With 
Philip  always  at  hand  to  insinuate  bis  hopes  and  Avishes,  no 
wonder  the  fond  old  father  grew  to  think  that  his  Lotty's 
invariable  silence  on  the  subject,  and  unchanging  manner,  were 
assumed.  Only  for  his  sake  was  she  thus  driving  from  her  the 
love  of  one  he  deemed  so  deserving  of  her. 

In  the  Avaywardness  of  disease,  he  Avould  have  taken  the 
matter  in  his  own  hands  and  settled  it  at  once,  but  that  Philip 
besought  him  not  to  hurry  her.  He  would  trust  to  time  and  her 
own  wishes,  he  said,  for  which  Mr.  Beauvilliers  loved  him  the 
more,  without  perceiving  that  Philip  knew  his  best  chance  was 
patience.  He  saAv  sufficient  determination  in  Lotty's  eyes  to 
make  him  fear  that,  even  coidd  he  gain  her  father's  orders,  she 
yet  might  disobey  him.     He  determined  to  sound  her. 

"  Lotty,  you  give  me  no  chance,  you  allow  me  no  opportunity 
of  becoming  better  acquainted  Avith  the  A\omau  1  Avish  to  make 
my  Avit'e." 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Leigh,"  said  Lotty,  carefully  intending  to  aA'oid 
irritating  him  as  she  had  done  last  time,  "  that  you  mistake  ; 
we  are  always  together." 

"  Yes  ;  by  yoin-  father's  chair,  or  Avith  others  in  company ;  but 
you  never  permit  me  to  Avalk  out  Avith  you  in  the  early  morning. 
Save  one  touch  of  your  hand  night  and  morning,  you  alloAv  me 
not  one  single  privilege  that  might  be  bestoAved  on  your  lover." 

''You  are  not  my  lover,"  returned  Lotty  ;  "you  cannot  be; 
you  and  I  judge  differently  of  the  love  that  should  subsist  be- 
tween husl)and  and  Avife." 

"  And  Avhat  is  your  idea?"  said  Pliilip,  eagerly. 

"  Look  arouiiil  you,  and  i)lace  before  your  mental  vision  all 
the  married  criuples  you  know.  See  if,  out  of  all,  one  half  have 
not  undertaken  duties  they  cannot  perform,  sAvorn  oaths  that  they 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  121 

all  but  forswear ;  let  ns  not  do  the  same.  I  know  I  am  not 
fitted  to  be  your  wife  ;  I  have  not  that  confidence  and  esteem  for 
your  character  I  must  have  belore  I  can  marry  you." 

"Why  not?"  said  Philip,  with  a  dark  frown. 

"  You  have  not  acted  well  by  Miss  Clare.  I  know  by  her 
letters  that  you  have  permitted  her  to  think  she  has  gained  your 
affections." 

"  On  my  honor,  Lotty,  on  my  sacred  oath,  I  have  never  done 
so,"  said  Philip,  ardently  ;  "  and  tell  me,  do  you  like  me  so 
little,  do  you  even  wish  to  punish  me  so  much,  that  you  give  me 
Augusta  Clare  for  a  wife  ?  " 

"No,  no,"  said  Lotty  ;  "but  I  do  not  esteem  the  man  who  can 
flirt  with  another  woman  for  his  own  amusement.  Miss  Clare 
has  in  reality  very  strong  feelings  when  roused  ;  and  I  am  cer- 
tain, that  with  real  love  in  her  heart,  you  will  find  her  very  unlike 
the  person  she  has  hitherto  appeared." 

"  Never,  never,  Lotty  !  for  Heaven's  sake,  name  her  not  again 
in  comparison  to  yourself." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Leigh,  can  you  not  perceive  how  frightful  it  must 
be  to  enter  into  so  solemn  an  en2;ao:ement  without  the  boundless 
store  of  love,  which  needs  large  portions  to  be  poured  out  on 
"many  emergencies,  and  yet  lose  nothing,  but  rather  gain,  the 
more  the  stream  flows  ?  " 

"  I  have  enough  for  us  both,  Lotty  ;  my  love  for  you  is  bound- 
less as  the  sea,  inexhaustible  as  the  sand  on  its  shore." 

"  Nay,  Mr.  Leigh,  your  love  is  lifeless  without  mine." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  cannot  love?  " 

"  Yes,  but  not  now.  I  am  too  young  —  I  must  not  be  forced. 
Look  at  Lady  Leigh  and  Mrs.  Herbert ;  good,  amiable,  matchless 
as  they  are,  in  their  wife's  devotion,  can  you  think  they  are  as 
well  mated  as  their  virtues  deserve  ?  I  would  wish  ever  to  look 
up  to  and  honor  my  husband." 

"  Tell  me  what  you  would  wish  him  to  be,  that  I  may  try  to 
learn." 

"  He  must  be  so  noble  in  heart  that  he  would  trust  me  as  him- 
self; he  must  be  full  of  that  confiding  love  and  faith,  so  as  to 
disdain  to  think  of  his  wife  as  having  a  separate  thought  or  heart 
from  himself.  Fi'ankly,  kindly,  nobly  must  he  ever  judge  me,  as 
I  would  him." 

"  You  are  speaking  of "     Philip  stopped  as  abruptly  as 

he  had  commenced,  his  eyes  gleaming. 

"  I  am  speaking  of  no  one  in  particular,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Well,"  said  Philip,  breathing  quick,  "  if  nothing  that  I  cau 
11 


122  MARGARET 

say  of  my  love  and  devotion  moves  you,  think  of  your  father's 
■wishes." 

'•  .Something  has  blinded  my  father,"  said  Lotty,  lowly  and 
sadly. 

"  But  you  would  obey  him?"  said  Philip,  eagerly. 

"  He  has  never  yet  asked  me  to  do  what  I  did  not  like,"  said 
Lotty. 

And  that  was  all  he  obtained  iu  this  conversation. 


CHAPTER    XXXI  . 

But  Philip's  suspense  was  shorter  than  even  he,  in  his  eager- 
ness, expected. 

One  night  Mr.  Beauvilliers  was  seized  with  spasms  of  the 
heart.  After  hours  of  protracted  agony,  during  which  the  pale 
little  daughter,  with  eyes  distended  from  intense  anxiety  into 
supernatural  brilliance  and  size,  never  left  his  pillow. 

Philip  was  incessant  in  his  attentions,  and  gained  many  a 
look  of  gratitude,  if  not  love,  from  those  Avistful  eyes.  "With 
his  strong  arms  he  helped  the  ever-attentive  sons  to  move  the 
restless,  aged  sutferer ;  and  no  domaud  lor  assisjtance  was  made, 
but  Philip  was  at  hand  to  give  it.  In  his  devoted  attentions  to 
the  father,  he  seemed  to  lose  sight  of  himself  and  Lotty  ;  and  the 
loving  daughter  repaid  him  well  for  this  forgetfulness  of  self,  by 
her  unreserved  manner  and  quiet  appreciation  of  his  services. 

Philip  tasted,  for  this  brief  period,  an  extraordinary  feeling 
of  content  and  self-respect,  such  as  those  who  act  trom  a  feeling 
of  duty  and  disinterestedness  must  ever  do.  But  the  feeling  was 
short  as  it  was  blest. 

Towards  midday,  as  Mr.  Beauvilliers  grew  calmer,  and  longer 
intervals  of  repose  were  given  him,  Philip  could  perceive  that 
his  eyes  often  rested  on  himself  and  Lotty,  with  a  wistful  look. 
A  wild  hope  shot  through  Philip's  heart,  that  now,  even  now, 
was  Lotty's  hist  filial  duty  to  be  demanded  and  ])iiid.  No  gen- 
erous determination  of  honor  and  l'orl)eariincc  lound  place  iu  that 
wildly-beating  heart ;  she  must  be  his,  with  or  without  her  love. 

"  My  darling,  wo  had  almost  parted,"  said  tlie  dying  man  ; 
"  another  struggle,  such  as  this,  and  I  shall  be  with  your  mother 
iu  heaven." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  123 

She  kissed  his  pale  forehead,  so  lately  contracted  with 
agony. 

"  My  pet,  let  me  see  you  a  wife  ere  I  die." 

"  O  father." 

"  It  will  make  me  happy,  Lotty." 

*'  I  am  ready,  father." 

Pliilip  heard  the  words,  and  with  eager  looks  was  by  her  side. 

*'  Give  your  father  this  satisfaction,  Lotty ;  I  will  not  claim 
one  moment  of  your  time  while  he  lives." 

"  Father,"  said  Lotty,  unheeding  him,  "  what  is  a  wife's 
duty?" 

"  Do  your  duty,  my  darling,  but  half  as  well  to  your  hus- 
band as  you  have  done  to  your  father,  and  no  wife  will  match 
you." 

"  What  is  my  duty,  ftxther  ?  " 

"  To  be  a  helpmeet  to  him  ;  to  be  his  companion,  friend 
adviser.     All  this  I  know  you  can  do,  Lotty." 

"  All  this  I  can  do,  father." 

"  Then  send  your  brothers  here." 

Mr.  Beauvilliers  explained  his  ardent  wishes  to  see  his  chil- 
dren around  him. 

"  I  think  I  should  die  happier  if  I  took  with  me  to  her  mother 
the  assurance  that  she  is  a  Avife,  and  settled.  You,  my  sons, 
are  all  married,  and,  I  doubt  not,  would  each  give  your  Lotty  a 
home  ;  but  I  should  like  to  tell  her  mother  she  is  about  to  make 
a  worthy  man  happy,  even  as  her  mother  made  me." 

A  low  murmur  of  approbation  greeted  his  words. 

"  Then  make  preparation  for  my  Lotty's  marriage,  by  my 
bed-side.  Tell  our  kind  kinsmen,  that  '  the  girl's  '  man'iage  is 
not  celebrated  as  they,  I  know,  would  wish,  but  God  wills  it  oth- 
erwise.    They  must  pray  for  her  happiness.    And,  Philip " 

here  Philip  advanced,  his  usually  grave  face  and  serious  eyes 
lightened  up  with  a  joy  and  eagerness,  that  only  confirmed  Mr. 
Beauvilliers  still  more  in  the  execution  of  his  wishes.  He 
looked  long  and  earnestly  at  him,  then,  apparently  well  content, 
he  said  slowly,  —  "  My  child  is  a  Beauvilliers,  truthful,  simple, 
just,  and  affectionate.     Restore  her  to  me  unchanged." 

"  On  my  soul,  I  promise,"  said  Philip. 

As  if  well  content,  Mr.  Beauvilliers  fell  into  a  calm  slumber, 
his  hand,  so  vast,  yet  so  shrivelled  and  helpless,  holding  the 
little  white  one  of  the  loving  daughter.  He  heeded  not  that, 
unlike  its  usual  warm,  life-like  touch,  it  was  now  passive  and 
cold.      Motionless  she  sat  on  his  pillow,  so  still,  so  calm,  so 


124  MARGARET 

apparently  bereft  of  life  and  feeling,  she  might  have  been  a 
statue. 

And  the  contrast  was  all  the  greater,  from  the  hurried  prep- 
arations that  were   going  on  in  other  parts  of  the  house. 

Some  brothers  went  in  search  of  the  clergyman,  others,  with 
Philip,  went  for  the  (special  license  ;  and  such  was  the  haste  and 
despatch  with  which  all  worked,  to  fulfil  their  dying  chiers  last 
wishes,  that  by  the  evening  every  thing  was  in  readiness  for  the 
inaiTiage. 

In  the  silent  presence  of  many  BeauvilHaus,  by  the  quiet  bed- 
side of  her  dying  father,  Philip  took  that  little  cold  hand  in  his, 
and  demanded  it  in  marriage  ;  she  neither  looked  at  him  nor 
spoke.  Slowly  she  obeyed  her  father's  whispered  Avish  :  "  Go, 
my  best  one  ; "  and  leaving  her  place  on  the  pillow,  stood  by 
Philip's  side,  with  her  eyes  still  resting  on  her  father.  She 
started  as  she  heard  Philip's  distinct,  and,  as  it  seemed,  tri- 
umphant voice,  as  he  made  the  responses.  She  spoke  hers  in  a 
voice  like  low,  sighing  music  ;  and  Avhile  "  honor  "  and  "  obey  " 
were  Avords  distinctly  heard,  the  clergyman  bent  his  head  in 
vain  for  the  one  syllable  —  "love."  lie  paused,  but  Pliilip  im- 
patiently beckoned  him  to  go  on  ;  and,  perhaps  impelled  by  the 
extraordinary  circumstances  under  which  the  marriage  Avas  cel- 
ebrated, he  proceeded  with  the  ceremony. 

As  the  last  words  Avere  spoken,  befoi-e  Philip  had  time  to 
claim  her  as  his  Avife,  Lotty  Avas  again  seated  on  her  father's  pil- 
loAv  ;  the  hand  so  lately  dead  and  cold  in  his  Avas  once  more 
nestled  in  lier  father's  dying  clasp. 

And  thus  nuitters  Aveut  on  for  three  AA'eeks.  During  that 
time  slie  Avas  never  absent  from  licr  father's  pilloAv  more  than 
five  minutes  at  a  time.  Philip  visibly  gained  groimd  in  iicr  esti- 
mation, by  the  devotedness  of  his  attentions,  and  his  apparent 
forgetfulness  of  any  claim  he  might  now  have  upon  her.  She 
seemed  to  be  still  as  free  as  if  no  marriage  had  taken  place. 

But  Avhen  the  last  Avords  Avere  said,  Avlien  the  last  look  Avas 
given,  and  the  last  sigh  received,  the  Avild  burst  of  grief  that 
broke  from  Lotty's  heart  appalled  him  at  lirst.  TIk^  depth,  the 
strength,  the  ferA'or  of  her  attachmfut,  opened  to  him  thi'  true 
nature  of  her  character,  and  lie  rejoiced  in  it.  "  She  shall  love 
me  in  this  manner ;  I  should  die  content  to  be  thus  mourned." 

]\Iany  Aveeks  elapsed  before  their  bi-loved  and  idolized  girl 
could  be  said  to  recover  her  father's  death.  And  if  anything 
could  have  reconciled  them  iiujre  than  another  to  her  hasty  mar- 
riage, it  Avas  to  see  the  gentle  care  Avith  Avhich  Philip  attended 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  125 

her,  the  devotion  he  paid  to  her  slightest  wish.  He  did  it,  it  is 
true,  from  the  purest  feelings  of  love.  Nevertheless,  there  was 
an  old  black  spot  in  his  heart  not  yet  rooted  out,  that  made  him 
say,  time  upon  time,  to  himself,  "  She  shall  reward  me  for  all 
this  forbearance  hereafter,"  And  perhaps  he  was  not  so  skilful 
in  veiling  his  true  feelings  to  Lotty,  as  he  was  to  her  kinsmen  ; 
for  she  showed  no  increase  of  affection  during  this  period  of 
sorrow. 

After  a  time,  it  was  agi-eed  that,  perhaps,  a  change  to  her 
new  home,  and  return  to  the  society  of  her  beloved  Margaret, 
would  prove  beneficial  in  every  way  to  her  health  and  spirits. 

The  considerate  Beauvillians  refrained  from  trying  her  shat- 
tered nerves,  by  coming  to  bid  her  a  personal  farewell ;  but  the 
trees  and  bushes  gave  shelter  to  affectionate  eyes,  watching  the 
departure  of  the  beloved  one.  Her  eldest  brother  lifted  her 
little  light,  faded  form  into  the  carriage  ;  Philip  took  his  place 
by  her  side  ;  she  neither  spoke  nor  moved,  until  they  came  to 
the  lodge.  There  a  last  group  of  anxious  kinsmen  were  as- 
sembled. Lotty  raised  her  head,  the  large  tears  rolled  down  her 
face  ;  she  had  passed  the  gates,  and  with  a  passionate  sob,  she 
sunk  back  in  the  carriage. 

Philip  drew  down  the  blinds,  and  wrapping  her  up  closely,  he 
folded  one  arm  round  her,  then  raising  her  face  to  his,  kissed 
her  once  or  twice,  saying,  softly  :  "  My  wife  !  "  —  the  little 
head  laid  itself  down  on  his  shoulder,  and  after  a  few  convul- 
sions of  grief,  the  sobs  grew  less,  the  tumultuous  heavings 
stopped,  the  heavy  eyes  closed,  and  Lotty  slept,  like  a  little 
weary,  worn-out  child. 

But  Philip  could  hear  the  beatings  of  his  own  heart,  as  he 
thought  that  now  this  idolized  little  being  was  really  his  own, 
that  he  held  the  "  little  wild,  wicked  thing  "  in  his  close  em- 
brace, had  at  last  called  her  his  wife,  and  touched  her  soft  cheek 
with  his  lips. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Pro.'s  marriage  had  been  celebrated  with  all  the  ceremony 
and  etiquette  Lady  Katherine  could  desire  ;  though  necessarily 
in  a  quiet  Avay,  because  of  Mr.  Beauvilliers'  precarious  health, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Montaixu's  demise. 

11* 


126  MARGARET 

The  day  was  chiefly  remarkable  from  other  weddings,  by  the 
fact,  that  as  the  happy  pair  drove  from  the  door,  Pru.  fell  into 
hysterics. 

Lady  Katherinc  sat  down  and  looked  at  her,  in  bewildered 
amazement.  A  .sort  of  notion  was  running  through  lier  head, 
that  the  gentle  Pru.  was  suddenly  possessed  by  an  evil  spirit. 
She  gazed  at  her  in  awe,  and  a  remembrance  of  the  old-fash- 
ioned picture,  often  to  be  seen  in  ancient  Bibles,  of  tlie  herd  of 
swine,  where  numerous  little  black  demons  are  discovered 
dancing  out  of  the  porcine  mouths,  beset  her  with  a  qualm  of 
fear. 

Luckily,  ladies'  maids  are  so  educated,  as  to  be  able  to  take 
out  a  diploma  in  tlie  matter  of  hysterics  ;  and  two  or  three  of 
them  having  administered  the  usual  amount  of  pattings,  scold- 
ings, coaxings,  poor  dears,  and  sal  volatile,  to  Lady  Katherine's 
infinite  relief,  no  further  catastrophe  happened,  but  that  Pru. 
was  put  sobbing  to  bed. 

Everybody  was  settled  in  his  and  her  proper  home.  Mar- 
garet and  Harold  at  Court  Leigh  ;  Lady  Katherinc  and  the  hys- 
terical Pru.  at  Roseleigh  :  ^lillicent  and  Gerald  at  the  Rectory. 

Tlie  first  smile  that  Philip  saw  on  his  wife's  face  since  the 
death  of  her  father,  was  brought  into  being  by  Pru.  She  saw 
the  carriage  pass  the  Avindow,  on  its  way  to  Court  Leigh, 
whither  Pliilip  was  taking  Lotty  for  a  drive  ;  and,  in  theexcite- 
ment  of  her  feelings,  she  ran  out,  just  as  she  was,  without  bon- 
net or  shawl,  and  tlii'owing  her  arms  round  Lotty,  as  she  de- 
scended from  the  carriage,  exclaimed,  "  Dearest,  darling  Lotty  ! 
I  am  so  jrlad  to  see  von  I  " 

Lotty  duly  appreciated  the  warm  aifection  displayed,  in  a 
manner  unprecedented  on  the  part  of  a  Miss  Leigii  ;  and  while 
Khe  returned  the  embrace,  had  almost  her  usual  manner ;  espe- 
cially when,  picking  up  Pru.'s  knotting,  it  was  discovered  that 
though  the  knotting  was  there,  the  other  end,  all  unwound,  was 
to  be  traced  all  through  the  garden,  Tosing  itself  in  the  window, 
out  of  which  Pru.  had  sprung  with  such  loving  activity. 

Margaret  and  ^lillicent  could  have  wi'j)t  over  the  change  in 
their  little  wild  Lotty  ;  but  the  least  show  of  feeling  on  their 
part  only  made  the  lips  turn  white  as  the  cheek,  though  no  word 
passed  them,  no  tear  of  relief  dinuned  her  bright  eyes.  They 
saw  she  was  struggling  Avith  her  sitrrow,  but  with  a  resolute 
heart  to  conquer  it  ;  and  only  did  they  show  their  perception  of 
her  eilorts,  by  tlie  ready  love  aiul  aHet'tion  with  which  they  ])ro- 
moted  all  sorts  of  schemes  and  pleasures  to  amuse  her.     Philip 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.        •  127 

seemed  to  have  no  pleasure,  no  business,  no  thought,  independ- 
ent of  Lotty  ;  and  appeared  to  live  but  to  administer  to  her 
wishes. 

From  the  first  -week  after  their  arrival,  they  Avere  visited  now 
and  then  by  one  of  Lotty's  brothers  or  uncles  ;  who,  loni^  as  the 
journey  was,  never  said  why  they  came,  or  what  made  tliem  go 
away  the  next  day.  Philip's  hot  temper  was  beginning  to  chafe, 
imder  what  he  considered  a  surveillance.  Lotty  may  have  per- 
ceived it,  for  she  begged  the  last  one  who  came,  to  entreat  the 
others  to  be  at  ease  about  her.  She  would  write  constantly  ;  she 
was  strong  enough  now  to  ride  and  walk  about.  They  could  see 
that  she  was  gradually,  though  slowly,  recovering  her  health 
and  spirits  ;  and  the  good  Beauvillians,  thinking  it  but  natural 
that  Philip  should  be  assured  that  he  had  not  married  the  whole 
family,  took  leave  of  their  Lotty,  and  left  her,  in  the  confidence 
of  their  fine  natures,  to  the  husband  her  father  had  selected 
for  her. 

But  Lotty  was  to  write  ;  O,  yes,  Lotty  must  not  let  one  week 
pass  without  writing.  And  her  nurse,  who  had  lived  with  her 
from  the  hour  of  her  birth,  now  her  maid,  was  to  write  too. 
And  so  Lotty  began  her  new  life. 

Harold  Avas  changed,  and  very  much  for  the  better  too,  in  all, 
excepting  one  thing,  and  that  the  most  important  —  his  dislike 
to  Gerald  Herbert  increased.  He  went  to  church  only  to  scoiF 
and  rail  at  the  preacher ;  only  to  murmur  and  find  fault  with 
Avliat  he  called  the  "  canting  parson." 

Margaret  would  endeavor,  in  her  gentle,  persuasive  way,  to 
point  out  the  beautiful  truths,  the  lofty  hopes,  held  out  in 
Gerald's  eloquent  words  ;  the  rigid  self-denial  of  his  life,  the 
uncompromising  zeal  with  which  he  performed  his  duty  ;  the 
truth  with  which  he  acted  his  favorite  text,  namely,  "  I  am  wil- 
ling to  spend  and  be  spent  for  you."  With  the  perverseness  of 
a  mind  that  would  persist  in  its  wrong  judgment,  he  Avould  not 
even  give  Gerald  credit  for  what  he  deserved. 

A  poor,  simple-hearted  curate,  Avith  plain  Avords  and  homely 
truths,  was  more  suited  to  Harold's  state  of  mind,  than  the 
gifted,  almost  inspired  Gerald  ;  and  for  this  reason  :  Harold's 
heart,  as  regarded  religion,  Avas  as  a  little  child's  ;  the  "strong 
meat"  he  could  not  yet  bear  —  the  "milk  6f  the  AA^ord"  Avas 
alone  fit  for  him  at  present.  And  beino:  unable  to  brino-  his  craze 
up  to  the  level  of  Gerald's  heaven-seeing  eyes,  he  took  refuge, 
as  many  men  have  done  before  him,  in  despising  Avhat  he  could 
not  understand. 


128  MARGARET 

Gerald,  on  Ills  part,  had  forgotten,  that  "  he  must  be  all  things 
to  all  men,  if  by  any  means  he  might  save  some."  Schooled 
and  exorcisi'd  us  his  own  heart  had  become,  he  no  longer  re- 
membered the  weuknesses  of  man's  natui'e,  but  deemed  a  duty 
undone,  a  fault  committed,  as  so  many  commandments  broken 
or  forgotten  ;  and  "  the  eye  must  be  j)luckcd  out,  the  hand  cut 
off,"  ere  the  sin  could  be  forgiven.  No  latitude  was  allowed, 
no  fault  considered  venial,  no  excuse  was  deemed  valid.  Per- 
fection was  his  aim  ;  and  this  to  a  man  Avhose  education  had 
been  based  on  no  religious  principles  ;  this  to  a  congregatiou 
who  were  ignorant  of  the  conunonest  duties  of  Christianity. 
No  wonder  that  the  rector  was  more  feared  than  loved,  more 
Avondered  at  than  respected. 

It  was  different  with  his  wife.  She  taught  the  holy  truths 
that  her  husband  wished  to  force  on  his  people  by  example  ;  and 
a  word  from  the  gentle  lips  of  his  wife  proved  often  more  per- 
suasive than  Gerald's  most  eloquent  appeal.  Neither  Harold 
nor  his  people  were  ready  or  fitted  to  strike  at  once  into  the  high 
path  of  duty  pointed  out  by  their  rector. 

Lady  Katherine,  though  considered  a  religious  Avoman,  had 
lived  lor  the  most  part  of  her  life  in  those  times  where  a  regular 
attendance  at  church,  spending  the  .Sunday  in  reading  sermons 
and  good  books,  taking  the  Holy  Sacrament  twice  a  year  with 
the  duo  amount  of  i)n'parati()n  required  by  the  little  manual 
called  "  The  Week's  I'reparatiou,"  caused  her  to  be  considered 
very  devout.  And,  as  we  have  intimated,  she  was  not  naturally 
gifted  with  sulficient  perception  to  distinguish  a  habit  from  a 
duty.  She  had  been  called  a  religious  woman  ;  she  considered 
herself  one.  To  be  told  she  was  a  siimer,  poor,  naked,  blind, 
and  helpless,  was  repugnant  t<»  her  feelings,  contrary  to  every 
idea  she  had  been  indulging  in  ior  nearly  seventy  years.  So 
she  joined  with  her  sou  in  disliking,  not  to  say  despising,  their 
new  rector. 

Margaret  and  Millicent  patiently  hoped  for  the  best ;  trying, 
in  their  loviug  woman's  nature,  to  sdften  all  ruggedncss,  all 
bushes  and  briars  iu  the  patiis  of  their  lords. 

Harold  really  exerti.l  hiniseU".  At  first  matters  went  on  very 
■well.  It  was  agreeable  to  go  to  dilferent  farm-houses  with  his 
agent  ;  order  tlu-m  instantly  to  be  repaired  ;  liave  tlie  heartfelt 
thanks  of  the  tenants,  and  the  tearful  blessings  of  tlieii-  wives, 
poun^d  upon  his  doings.  Also,  he  was  interested  in  plans  that 
were  subinitt<'d  to  hini,  and,  the  weather  not  beintr  as  vet  \erv 
Lot,  he  rode  about  and  walched  their  progress  iu  cxecutiou  ;  and 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  129 

was  pleased  Avith  himself  when  he  suggested  improvements,  and 
they  were  deemed  worthy  to  be  carried  out.  Tiresome  as  Price 
had  been,  yet  as  Sir  Harold  now  seemed  determined  to  look 
after  his  own  atfairs,  no  more  impediments  were  thrown  in  his 
way.  All  seemed  to  go  on  delightfully  smooth  and  pleasant. 
Basil  was  duly  informed,  by  the  self-pleased  Harold  and  the 
delighted  Margaret,  of  the  happy  state  of  affairs  ;  and  was  be- 
sought to  come  and  see  the  effects  caused  originally  by  him  alone, 
and  to  assist  with  his  further  advice. 

But  Basil  knew  the  besetting  sin  of  the  Leisjhs.  Harold  must 
reform  himself  by  sui-e  and  slow  degrees.  Dependent  upon  an- 
other, the  cure  would  never  be  complete. 

Tliat  he  had  some  annoyances  to  contend  Avith,  Margaret  ex- 
pected ;  and,  though  Harold  fi'etted  and  fumed  about  them,  they 
were  not  of  so  grave  a  nature  as  to  cause  any  serious  interrup- 
tion. So  summer  came  on  apace,  and  with  the  green  leaves 
came  fairer  hopes. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


LoTTY  was  once  more  herself,  and  Philip,  as  he  watched  her 
playing  like  a  very  child  with  her  great  Bear,  Avondered  at  the 
intense  love  that  burned  in  his  heart  for  that  little  wild  thins. 
And  did  she  love  him?  This  question  he  asked  himself,  day 
and  night,  hour  by  hour,  and  he  could  not  ansAver  it. 

Happy,  frank,  and  unrestrained  as  ever,  the  butterflies  of  the 
hour  seemed  not  more  free  from  care,  more  intent  upon  being 
satisfied  Avith  whatever  flower  came  in  their  Avay. 

Fond  terms  of  endearment  were  showered  upon  Bear,  caresses 
and  loving  words  to  Margaret,  merry,  mirthful  ones  to  Pru. 
What  to  him?  He  kncAv  not,  he  could  not  tell,  he  could  not 
define  her  feelings  toAvards  him. 

He  had  but  to  express  a  Avish  ;  she  said,  "  Yes,  Philip,"  and 
it  was  done.  Did  she  intend  riding,  and  he  said  he  Avished  to 
walk,  she  Avould  come  doAvn  in  her  Avalking  dress,  having  taken 
off  habit  and  hat  on  the  instant.  Did  he  but  hint  at  an  altera- 
tion in  house,  garden,  her  dress,  her  Avords  ;  even  though  he 
might  be  hardly  conscious  that  he  had  said  it,  yet  it  Avas 
done. 

But  what  matteired  all  this  to  him ;  Avhat  mattered  it,  that  he 


130  MARGARET 

had  secured  the  prize  he  took  at  auy  price,  if,  after  all,  he  did 
not  gain  her  love?  The  old  sin  was  rishig  fast  in  his  heart,  but 
in  a  new  form.  The  loug-t-oncealed,  though  still  flourishing, 
plant  of  discontent  and  euvy,  that  he  had  so  nourished  and 
fostered  from  his  youth,  and  which  had  apparently  died  when 
all  food  was  taken  froux  it,  Avas  beginning  to  sprout  again,  lie 
envied  Bear  the  fond  words  bestowed  on  him  ;  he  hated  to  see 
Lotty  going  about  with  Margaret's  arm  around  her.  He  wanted 
no  one  to  have  part  or  parcel,  or  aught  to  do  with  his  property. 
She  might  not  love  him  (he  had  braved  the  cliauces  of  marrying 
her  without),  but  she  was  his  —  his  property,  goods,  chattels. 
If  she  would  not  love  him,  she  should  not  love  anything  else. 
But  he  meant  to  make  her  love  him.  He  was  but  waiting  an 
opi)ortunity  to  begin  his  operations. 

Pliilip  Leigh  resembled  his  cousin  in  the  disregard,  not  to  say 
indifference,  he  paid  to  religious  duties.  This  is  often  the  case 
■with  men  whose  vigorous  intellect  and  quick  taleuts  smother  the 
less  striking  (piulities  of  plain  sense  and  calm  judgment.  What- 
ever his  inquiring  mind  had  led  him  to  study  and  examine  on 
this  vital  subject  had  hitherto  rathi-r  tended  to  confirm  his  scep- 
ticism. A  little  more  (nought  but  the  pitying  love  of  some 
ministering  angel,  sent  by  an  all-merciful  God,  kept  one  little 
spot,  half  awe,  half  fear,  in  his  heart),  and  Philip  Leigh  Avould 
have  been  an  infidel.  He  very  seldom  went  to  church  ;  once  or 
twice  he  had  tried  to  prevent  Lotty  going  there.  But  she,  so 
quick  to  hear  his  least  wish,  so  observant  of  all  his  hints,  took 
no  heed  on  tiiis  subject.  So  he  thought  he  woidd  express  him- 
self more  strongly. 

"  Lotty,  I  want  you  to  stay  at  home  to-day  to  read  to  me," 
said  he. 

"  I  am  going  to  church,  Philip." 

"  But  do  you  not  hear  me  say  I  wish  you  to  stay  at  home?  " 

"  Then  you  must  wish  still,  Philip,  for  that  is  all  you  can  have 
now.      When  I  return  I  sliall  be  rtiady  to  do  wliat  yow  i-equirc." 

"  Come,  Lotty,  don't  be  childish.  1  am  not  in  ihc  habit  of 
asking,  to  be  refused." 

"  Do  you  never  go  to  church,  Philip?  " 

"  Very  seldom,  little  one.  1  do  not  see  what  men,  in  the  full 
possession  of  their  wits  and  faculties,  want  to  gain  by  going 
there." 

''  They  sliould  go  to  thank  God  for  that  gift  of  their  wits  and 
faculties." 

"  Pooh,  Lotty  !     1  was  born  with  mine." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  131 

*'  You  believe  in  no  God,  then,  Philip  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  a  sad,  irreligious  dog,  sweet  Lotty,"  said 
he,  half  smiling  to  think  he  had  gained  his  end. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  strange  expression  of  pity  in  her 
face. 

"  I  go  then,"  she  said,  "  to  pray  for  you,"  and  left  him ; 
taking  the  path  to  church. 

He  was  too  much  surprised,  not  to  say  ashamed,  to  stop  her ; 
but  he  determined  to  be  revenged.  When  she  returned,  she 
found  him  in  the  same  place  she  had  parted  from  him.  In  her 
usual  gay  and  innocent  manner  she  came  up  to  him  as  if  nothing 
had  occurred,  showing  him  Bear  all  wound  round  with  a  wreath 
of  wild  briony ;  slie  gave  Philip  some  violets,  and  then  said, 
"  Now  where  is  the  book  ?  " 

For -a  moment  there  were  in  Philip's  mind  better  thoughts, 
and  a  conviction  that  if  he  wished  to  gain  the  love  of  this  little 
precious  heart,  it  must  be  by  actions  and  thoughts  as  pure  and 
bright  as  her  OAvn  truthful  eyes.  But  no,  Philip's  heart  was  not 
capable  of  good  and  noble  thoughts  —  he  must  be  revenged  ;  and 
if  she  would  not  love,  she  .?hould  fear  him.  So  he  said,  "  No, 
I  thank  you.     I  wish  for  no  forced  duties." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  without  appearing  to  see  his  taunt. 
"  Then,  Bear,  come  with  me  to  get  some  more  violets." 

Philip  grew  pale  with  anger,  and  he  said,  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  Stay  where  you  are." 

She  took  off  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  without  looking  at 
Philip,  sat  down  with  a  book. 

"  Do  you  not  see  that  you  have  annoyed  me  ?  "  said  he  at  last. 

"  Yes,  I  see  it." 

"  Then  why  do  you  not  ask  my  forgiveness?" 

"  I  request  your  forgiveness." 

Philip  bit  his  lips  with  anger,  but  knew  not  what  to  say. , 

"  Ah  !  Philip,"  said  Lotty,  at  last,  in  a  cordial,  happy  manner, 
"  we  are  like  two  babies  ;  Ave  shall  never  earn  the  flitch  of  bacon 
Margaret  has  promised  us."  Then  assuming  a  more  serious 
look,  with  a  quiet,  dignified  manner,  she  continued,  "  I  have 
much  for  which  to  thank  God  ;  much  for  which  I  have  to  pray. 
Sickness  or  death  shall  alone  prevent  my  going  to  church.  Let 
us  have  no  further  dispute  on  such  a  subject."  She  put  her  hand 
into  his,  almost  the  first  unsolicited  mark  of  familiarity  she  had 
ever  bestowed  on  him. 

INIadly  as  he  loved  her,  irresistible  as  seemed  the  inclination  to 
clasp  her  in  his  arms,  and  utter  the  burning  cry  of  his  heart, 


132  MARGARET 

"  Lore  me,  Lotty,  0,  love  me  !  "  he  was  foiled,  and  could  not  for- 
give her.     He  said  coldly,  '•  Your  first  duty  is  to  your  luisband." 

She  turned  away  ;  he  could  aee  a  little  shadow  of  disdaiu  iu  her 
eyes,  but  she  did  not  answer. 

No  more  was  said  that  evening  ;  but  as  she  was  preparing  to 
go  to  Court  Leigl)  in  the  morning,  he  said,  "  You  are  always 
at  Court  Leigh  I   cannot  you  stay  at  home  one  day?  " 

"  We  are  both  engaged  there,  Philip,  to  meet  my  old  school- 
fellows, Carrv  and  Florv." 

"  I  do  not  choose  to  go." 

"  Very  well." 

Lotty  took  off  her  bonnet,  wrote  a  note,  and  rang  the  bell. 

"  Let  me  see  that  note,"  said  he.  He  read  it  ;  and  his  heart 
smote  him  as  he  read  the  simple  excuse  to  Margaret,  which  con- 
tained no  implication  of  himself,  and  was  written  in  her  lively, 
happy  spirit,  rendering  it  all  most  natural  their  not  going. 

"  You  mav  sav  we  will  come  to-morrow." 

"  Thank  you,  Philip." 

If  Philip  thought  he  had  punished  her,  he  could  not  be  certain 
of  it ;  as  Lotty  Avas  her  usual  happy  self  all  day. 

He  was  not  sorry  that  Margaret  came,  in  spite  of  the  excuse, 
and  carried  them  both  off  by  force  to  dinner. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

Caroline  and  Florence  appeared  before  their  school-fellows, 
as  they  did  to  them,  in  very  diHerent  circumstances  to  those  in 
which  they  parted. 

Marjjaret  and  Caroline  were  mothers  ;  INIillicent  lookinj;  for- 
ward  to  such  an  event.      Florence  and  Lotty,  brides. 

Caroline's  husljand  was  a  good-tempered,  fox-hunting,  rather 
vulgar  'squire,  of  moderate  fortune,  Avho  loved  his  pretty  wife 
next  to  his  horses  and  dogs,  and  thought  her  higldy  flattered  by 
the  compliment.  She  seemed  equally  pleased  at  her  position  in 
her  lord's  all'eclions,  for  her  own  were  almost  wholly  absorbed  iu 
a  pale,  flal>by  species  of  baby,  with  tottering  head,  weak  neck, 
and  waterv  l>lue  eyes  of  large  dimensions. 

Wliat  lliis  baby  ate  and  drank,  when  it  slept  and  huw  it  slept, 
when  it  Avent  out,  and  where  it  went,  with  various  other  interest- 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  133 

ing  items,  formed  the  sole  food  for  her  thoughts,  the  sole  exercise 
for  her  tongue. 

Wheu  Lotty  brought  down,  after  dinner,  Margaret's  magnifi- 
cent boy,  his  little  figure  so  erect,  and  his  beautiful  face  so  bloom- 
ing and  intelligent ;  he  formed  a  sufficient  contrast  to  the  little 
stranger  as  to  call  forth  an  abrupt  remark  from  the  young  'squire, 
rather  to  the  detriment  of  his  own  child. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Margaret,  quickly,  seeing  the  flush  of  mortified 
anger  rising  on  the  young  mother's  cheek,  "  my  boy  is  almost  a 
year  old." 

"  And  pray.  Sir  Harold,"  continued  the  'squire,  whose  name 
"was  Royston,  "  have  you  had  any  peace  since  his  birth?  " 

"  I  don't  see  the  little  fellow  very  often,"  said  Harold,  "  and  I 
never  hear  him,  so  I  suppose  I  must  consider  myself  fortunate  ; 
and  that  he  is  a  very  good  child,  inheriting  all  his  father's 
amiability." 

"  He  is  of  a  more  enterprising  and  active  nature  than  you, 
Harold,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  for  he  took  incredible  pains  to  scramble 
up  on  to  a  chair  a  day  or  two  ago." 

"  That's  just  what  my  baby  does,"  said  Mrs.  Royston,  eagerly  ; 
*'  he  feels  his  feet  already,  little  pet !  " 

"  I  conclude  he  is  feeling  something,"  said  the  hard-hearted 
father,  "  otherwise  how  can  you  account  for  those  extraordinary 
faces?" 

"  Nonsense  !  Robert,"  said  Mrs.  Royston,  angrily  ;  "  that's 
only  a  way  babies  have  of  smiling." 

"  It  seems  to  express  the  reverse,  to  my  thinking,"  retorted  he. 

At  that  moment,  little  Harold's  wondering  and  wandering 
eyes,  that  had  been  travelling  from  face  to  face,  among  the  new 
comers,  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  father.  A  little  radiant  gleam 
of  smiles  shone  over  his  whole  face,  he  stretched  out  his  arms, 
and  quivering  in  every  limb  with  delighted  impatience,  he  ex- 
pressed, in  baby  language,  his  wish  to  go  to  him. 

"  Ah  !  now,  that  I  call  an  unmistakable  smile,"  said  the  per- 
tinacious 'squire.  "  I  wonder.  Carry,  if  your  baby  will  ever  be 
as  nice  a  one  as  that  ?  " 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  and  I  don't  care 
either.  If  my  little  darling  has  an  unnatural  father,  it  is  his 
mother's  duty  to  make  it  up  to  him."  And  slight  symptoms  of 
a  disposition  to  weep  afflicted  Mrs.  Royston. 

"I  should  think,"  said  Margaret,  with  a  voice  like  angels' 
music,  "  that  when  your  boy  is  the  age  of  mine,  Mr.  Royston, 
you  will  be  quite  satisfied  with  him." 
12 


134  MARGARET 

"  He  doesn't  deserve  to  have  such  a  child,"  was  muttered  by 
the  injured  mother. 

"  It  is  a  <:Tt'at  disadvantairc,"  continued  Marpraret,  hoping  to 
drown  the  hist  sentence,  "  I'or  so  young  a  chiUl  as  yours  to  be 
seen  by  the  side  of  a  young  John  Bull,  such  as  my  boy."  As 
he  heard  his  mother's  voice,  the  young  John  Bull  called  out  Iior 
name,  and  with  all  his  child's  love  beaming  in  his  face,  he  held 
out  the  strawberry  his  ftither  had  given  him  for  her  acceptance. 

Mrs.  Royston  retired  to  the  drawing-room  with  the  other 
ladies,  in  an  aggrieved  state  ;  and  Avhile  she  poured  forth  into 
Margaret's  ear  all  she  endured  Irom  Mr.  Koyston's  unfeeling 
conduct,  mixed  up  with  an  account  of  her  baby's  extraordinary 
mental  and  bodily  accomplishments,  Florence  was  favoring  Lotty 
Avith  a  private  view  of  her  trousseau.  Her  husband  Avas  a  mild 
sort  of  fair,  soft  young  man,  Avithout  any  Aery  particular  ideas 
upon  any  subject,  Avhich  Avas  fortunate,  as  Florence  had  decision 
enough  for  both.  He  Avas  the  junior  scion,  as  Avell  as  junior 
clerk,  of  a  large  banking  establishment,  so  that  Avhile  Florence 
spread  out  her  Avedding-A'eil,  looking  at  it  Avitli  loving  and  admir- 
ing eyes,  sometimes  shaking  it  up  into  a  fall  of  lace,  then 
spreading  it  out,  after  the  most  approved  milliner  fashion,  she 
told  Lotty  of  all  their  expectations. 

"  We  are  to  have  £800  a-year  noAV,  my  dear,  and  little 
enough  too,  considering  the  house  Fi'cdcrick  Avorks  in.  Rich  ! 
my  dear,  rich  does  not  express  Avhat  tliey  arc.  Literally,  they 
might  eat  gold.  1  Avent  one  day  into  the  Bank  Avith  Frederick, 
just  for  curiosity ;  and,  my  dear,  the  bank-notes  Avould  have 
covered  this.flijor,  and  heaps  of  gold  lying  about,  just  as  if 
nobody  cared.  But  the  clei'ks  stared  so,  I  could  not  look  much, 
I  Avas  so  afraid  Frederick  Avould  see  them,  and  be  angry.  I 
had  on  a  purple  merino,  and  a  white  chip  bonnet,  Avilh  jmj  pies 
and  corn  trimmings  —  most  elegant,  I  can  assure  you,  my  dear 
Lotty.     But,  I  forget,  you  never  cared  much  about  dress." 

"  No,  not  much,"  returned  Lotty. 

'•  Then  it  is  time  you  should,  my  dear.  Noav  you  are  a 
married  woman,  you  must  study  dress  to  please  your  husband. 
A  man  always  likes  to  hear  that  his  Avife  is  tlie  Iiest  dressed 
AA'oman  going,  and  T  shall  make  a  point  of  indulging  Frederick 
in  this  Avish.     I  sliall  consider  it  my  duty." 

"  I  hope  he  will  be  duly  grateful,"  said  Lotty. 

"  0,  yes ;  that  he  Avill,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  Avhy.  You 
see  I  have  only  two  '  nioiri's '  at  jjresont ;  mamma  Avonld  not 
give  me  another,  but  1  will  have  a  black  one,  J  am  determined. 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  135 

All  married  "vvomen  wear  black.  By  the  by,  my  dear,  what  a 
handsome  man  your  husband  is  !  Now,  I  should  like  to  have 
a  dress  just  the  color  of  liis  hair  —  a  rich  black.  I  wonder  how 
he  came  to  fancy  a  child  like  you  ?  " 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Lotty,  quietly. 

"•  Is  he  kind  to  you,  my  dear?  He  did  not  look  to  me  very 
good-tempered ;  he  seemed  to  me  as  if  something  had  put  him 
out." 

"'  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  it  was  a  pity  he  had  not  seen  you 
before  he  married  me." 

"■  All,  ha  !  very  likely  ;  but  you  were  always  a  good  little 
soul,  Lotty  ;  and  Frederick  says,  never,  not  even  at  the  Opera, 
with  all  that  sea  of  lovely  faces  round  him  (that's  his  own  ex- 
pression, mind,  and  very  pretty  too),  did  he  see  one  to  compare 
to  mine." 

"  You  are  very  much  improved,  Flory,  since  you  left  school." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  !  I  must  allow  dress  makes  a  vast  difference  : 
one  can  dress  so  sweetly  now,  there  are  such  loves  of  things  ; 
look,  now,  at  this  head-dress  —  By  the  by,  did  you  notice  Carry's 
to-day,  at  dinner  —  put  on  all  on  one  side  ?  I  dare  say  she  Avas 
wishing  her  baby  good-by  ere  she  parted  from  the  cherub  to 
come  down  to  dinner,  and  never  looked  at  herself  in  the  glass. 
Now,  if  I  had  tifty  babies,  I  should  think  it  just  as  necessary  to 
pay  every  attention  to  my  personal  appearance  as  if  I  had 
none." 

"  Rather  more  so,  I  imagine,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Exactly  ;  now  you  are  reasonable,  Lotty  ;  but  as  for  Carry, 
she  is  baby-mad.  And  did  you  ever  see  such  a  dowdy  as  she 
has  become?  Two  or  three  more  children,  and  I  don't  know 
Avhat  she  will  look  like.  But  that's  the  worst  of  you  little 
people,"  continued  Flory,  looking  with  satisfaction  from  her  OAvn 
tall,  rather  angular  form,  to  Lotty's  petite  one. 

"  It's  very  shocking,  certainly,"  said  Lotty. 

"  But  my  dear,  you  have  not  half  admired  this  white  muslin, 
with  the  gold  corn.  And  now,  you  see,  having  shown  you  all 
my  things,  it  is  but  fair  that  I  should  see  your  trousseau." 

"  I  did  not  have  one,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Not  a  trousseau  !  " 

"  No,"  said  Lotty,  composedly. 

"  Good  heavens,  child  !     Tlieu  how  were  you  married  ?  " 

"  Under  very  painful  circumstances,  Flory  ;  so  we  will  say  no 
more  about  it." 

"  Yes  ;  I  know  my  dear  that  you  had  to   be  married  in  a 


136  MARGARET 

hurry,  and  by  your  father's  bed-side.  I  remember  hearing  how 
your  uncles,  and  brothers,  and  Mr.  Leiujh,  were  rushing  every- 
■\vhere  to  get  the  special  license  ;  and  1  was  thinking  myself  I 
should  like  to  be  married  that  Avay  too.  But,  of  course,  married 
by  special  license,  I  concluded  you  Avould  have  diamonds,  or 
pearls  at  least,  and  Mechlin  lace,  and  all  the  thiugs  proper." 

"  No,"  said  Lotty.  The  remem])rance  of  the  scene  sent  a  rush 
of  mournful  regrets  to  her  heart ;  but  she  knew  her  present 
auditor  was  wholly  incapable  of  understanding  that  deep  well 
of  never-dying  sorrow  —  so  she  continued,  in  her  usual  uncon- 
cerned voice,  "  I  Avas  married  in  my  old  brown  merino  frock, 
that  you  have  often  seen  at  school." 

"  My  heavens  !  and  married  by  special  license  !  "  exclaimed 
Flory.  "  Poor  soul !  But  surely  you  had  a  trousseau  provided 
for  you  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  of  black,  Avith  crape  and  broad  hems." 

"Dear  me,  hoAv  shocking?     Are  you  superstitious,  my  dear? 

—  for  if  it  Avas  me,  I  should  not  know  a  moment's  happiness; 
I  should  feel  perfectly  certain  that  the  match  Avould  turu  out  a 
miserable  one." 

"  If  it  does,"  said  Lotty,  "  I  Avill  come  to  you  for  consola- 
tion." 

"  Do,  my  dear,  you  shall  have  my  best  efforts  ;  and,  in  the 
mean  time,  take  this  advice  :  don't  pin  your  happiness  on  any 
man.  I  told  Frederick  from  the  Acry  first  I  Avas  no  Aveak  iuol, 
ready  to  give  in  on  any  occasion  ;  but  I  had  likings  and  dislik- 
ings,  Avhims  and  Aveaknesses,  and,  like  all  other  mortals,  I  Avas 
entitled  to  my  share  of  indulgences.  Noav,  look  at  Margaret  ; 
I  believe  she  quite  fears  .Sir  Harold,  and  she  has  next  to  no 
poAver  over  him.     By  the  by,  hoAV  fat  and  bloated  he  has  groAvu 

—  and  such  an  elegant  young  man  as  he  was,  Avith  such  a  fine 
dark  eye " 

''  I  always  thought  he  had  tAvo,"  interrupted  Lotty. 

"  Of  course  he  has  ;  you  are  as  matter  of  fact  as  ever,  you 
little,  odd  thing  !  Do  you  remember  how  nuid  Augusta  Avas 
Avlien  she  discovered  that  it  Avas  Margaret  he  Avanted  to  marry, 
not  her?  Ha,  ha!  hoAv  Ave  lauglied,  Carry  and  I,  it  Avas  such 
good  fun  her  being  so  disappointed.     Tlieu,  Avliat  do  you  think? 

—  she  Avroto  and  told  us  she  Avas  goiug  to  be  married  to  your 
husband.     By  the  by,  Lotty,  she  is  most  bitter  against  you." 

"  She  is  corning  here  next  Aveek,"  said  Lotty. 
"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it.      I  shall  shoAV   her  all  my  things  : 
she  really  has  good  taste  in  dress  ;  and,  besides,  how  she  Avill 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  137 

envy  me  !     It  has  always  seemed  strauge  to  me  that  she  does 
not  marry." 

"  She  is  very  handsome,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Yes  ;  and  very  striking  too  ;  but  she  is  such  a  shocking 
flirt  —  she  goes  such  lengths.  Really  mamma  was  about  to 
order  me  to  have  nothing  further  to  say  to  her,  she  lost  her 
character  so  completely  last  summer  at  Ryde.  She  is  a  pretty 
good  age  nov.' ;  the  oldest  of  us  all,  save  Millicent.  She  has  a 
shocking  temper,  and  agrees  Avith  none  of  her  family  ;  they  de- 
spise her,  and  she  hates  them.  But  I  must  show  you  my  pink 
glace,  with  silver  trimmings,  and  such  a  spi-ay,  mv  dear,  for  the 
hair." 

But  Lotty,  declaring  that  coffee  would  be  announced,  departed 
down  stairs,  and  concluding,  from  Margaret's  look,  that  she  had 
had  a  dose  of  talk  similar  to  her  own  in  interest,  called  upon  her 
to  come  and  sing.  Their  sweet  voices  rose  and  fell  in  rich  har- 
mony, beguiling  the  gentlemen  from  the  dining-room, 

"  My  dear,"  whispered  Florence  to  Lotty,  ''  I  mean  to  devote 
myself  to  studying  your  husband's  character  for  an  hour  ;  I  am 
a  great  judge  of  such,  things,  and  rarely  mistaken;  and  being 
such  a  little,  young,  inexperienced  thing,  I  may  be  able  to  afford 
you  some  good  and  sensible  advice  as  to  his  management." 

"  I  feel  very  gi-ateful,"  said  Lotty,  smiling. 

"  Ah  !  depend  upon  it,  my  dear,  I  shall  be  able  to  do  you  a 
great  deal  of  good." 

Florence  made  only  one  discovery  in  the  hour  that  she  kindly 
devoted  to  the  study  of  Philip's  character.  He  never  Avillingiy 
withdrew  his  eyes  from  Lotty's  face,  and  he  never  lost  a  single 
word  that  fell  from  her  lips  ;  nevertheless,  he  did  not  speak  to 
her,  and  he  was  as  reasonably  entertaining  as  most  men  ap- 
peared to  Florence. 

So  she  forgot  her  intention  to  pry  into  his  secret  soul,  and  lost 
herself  in  conjectures  as  to  the  motives  of  the  ward  and  watch 
he  seemed  to  hold  over  his  wife. 

Philip  appeared  quite  satisfied,  whether  she  conversed  or  re- 
mained silent,  50  she  had  ample  time  to  settle  all  the  pros  and 
cons  to  her  mind. 

"  He  is  jealous,  of  course  he  is,  and  i-easonable  enough  too, 
considering  he  has  married  such  a  child.  I  shall  give'her  a 
hint  ;  those  sorts  of  dark,  sanguine-looking  men  are  always 
jealous,  and  liave  furious  tempers  when  roused.  With  his  brows 
knit,  and  his  eyes  flashing,  he  looks  really  now  as  if  he  would 
no  more  miud  committing  a  murder  thau  I  do  eating  this  bread 

12* 


138  MARGARET*- 

and  butter.  It  will  be  my  duty  to  warn  the  child.  Heavens  ! 
she  speaks  to  Frederick,  and  the  man  glares  at  him.  Jupiter 
Amnion  !  Avhat  a  comiteuance.  I  must  go  and  release  Freder- 
ick from  his  awful,  and  to  him  unknown  situation." 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

"  I  DO  not  like  those  people  now  at  the  Court,"  said  Philip  to 
Lotty,  on  the  morrow  after  this  party. 

''  That  is  very  likely,  Philip,"  said  Lotty,  as  she  sat  busily 
tying  his  fishing-flies. 

"  One  is  a  vain,  selfish,  opinionated  femalcr  tied  to  as  weak  a 
fool  as  'twas  ever  my  lot  to  encounter  ;  and  the  other  ought  to  be 
called  '  Gamp,'  and  1  need  say  no  more.  Associating  with  such 
creatures  woiild  make  a  monkey  gape." 

Lotty  laughed  and  said,  "  Yet  each  of  them  rejoice  in  a  few 
virtues,  tliat  some  of  us  may  Avant.  It  is  rare  to  find  a  person 
wholly  devoid  of  amiable  qualities." 

"  You  are  a  philosopher,  Lotty." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  am  so  nuich  of  a  philosopher  as  a  person 
who  can  easily  accommodate  herself  to  the  company  she  is  in. 
My  two  school-fellows  rather  amuse  me,  they  have  turned  out  so 
exactly  what  I  expected  they  would." 

"As  you  arc  such  a  judge  of  character,  let  me  hear  your 
opinion  of  mine." 

"  It  is  not  a  favorable  one,  Philip." 

"As  how?"  said  I'hilip,  his  br(,»ws  knitting. 

"Because  you  would  nuirry  me,  without  caring  for  my  affection." 

"  Lotty,  Lotty,  that  is  false  !  You  know  'twas  my  ardent,  in- 
fatuated love  for  you,  that  made  me  secure  you  at  any  price." 

"  You  loved  yourself,  Pliilip,  because,  if  you  liad  loved  me,  vou 
Avould  not  have  taken  advantage  of  my  dying  fallier's  wishes 
(which  you  saw,  were  commands  to  me)  to  make  me  marry  you, 
witiidut  having  that  love  for  you  which  I  ought  to  have  fill." 

"  You  speak  strangely.  Lotty,  to  one  wlio  is  yoiu*  husband." 

"  I  do  it  advisedly,  I'hilip,  because  it  is  my  firm  purpose  to 
fulfil  my  father's  wishes,  to  love  you  if  I  can  ;  and  I  think  you 
must  know  my  charnctcr  sunicicnlly  well,  bv  ibis  time,  to 
be  aware  that,  with  or  without,  I  shall  perform  my  duty  as  your 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  139 

wife.  "Will  you  trust  and  believe  in  me,  that  all  this  I  mean  to 
do?" 

"  I  cannot,  at  present,  see  the  di'ift  of  what  you  mean,  Lotty  ; 
you  are  my  wife  —  as  such  I  command  your  love  and  obedience." 

"  My  obedience  you  have,  Philip  ;  my  love  has  to  be  gained. 
Remember  it  was  your  own  doing,  marrying  me  without." 

"Am  I  so  very  disagreeable,  personally  and  mentally,"  said 
Philip,  hotly,  "  that  I  am  to  sue  to  a  child  like  you,  for  what  no 
woman  ever  denied  me  before,  did  I  take  the  trouble  to  demand 
it?" 

"  My  love  is  worth  the  trouble  of  gaining  it,"  said  Lotty, 
looking  up  with  an  expression  in  her  face,  so  lovely  and  yet  so 
exalted,  that  Philip  felt  he  could  have  knelt  at  her  feet,  and  sued 
as  the  humblest  slave  for  one  Avord  of  love.  As  it  was,  he  said, 
with  faltering  voice,  "  Love  me,  Lotty,  for  there  is  nothing  on 
earth  that  I  covet  so  much." 

"I  wish  to  do  so,  Philip,  but  you  will  not  permit  me.  Can 
you  not  be  generous,  and  allow  something  for  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances under  which  I  Avas  made  to  marry  you,  being 
myself  of  a  nature  neither  pliable  nor  yielding  ?  Can  you  not  act 
a  noble  part  of  forbearance  and  patience,  and  Avin  my  love 
through  gratitude  for  such  conduct  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  doing  so,  child." 

"  Yes,  and  I  Avas  becoming  contented  and  happy." 

"  In  AAdiat  way  have  I  changed,  then?" 

"You  have  Avithin  your  heart,  Philip,  some  ill  weed,  that 
chokes  every  fine  and  noble  feeling.  Why  need  you  seek 
revenge  for  Avhat  you  knoAv  I  regret  as  much  as  yourself?  By 
resenting  the  Avant  of  my  love,  can  you  make  it  spring  ?  Trust 
me,  be  frank  and  generous  Avith  me.  I  knoAv  not  my  OAvn  heart, 
if  it  remains  insensible  to  high  and  noble  actions,  but  it  closes 
Avhen "  she  paused. 

"  What,  Lotty  ?  you  can  have  nothing  less  bitter  to  say  to  me 
than  you  have  done  :  then  what,  I  ask  ?  " 

"You  knoAv,  Philip,  better  than  I  can  explain,  and  it  is  to 
Avarn  you  that  I  have  spoken,  as  you  think,  tlaus  bitterly." 

"•  I  have  not  noAv  to  learn  Iioav  to  manage  a  Avoman,"  said 

Philip,  fiercely,  "  especially "     He  was  about  to  add,  "  one 

a  child  such  as  you  are  ;  "  but  a  remembrance  of  her  escape  from 
him  the  day  he  first  told  her  hoAV  he  loved  her  ;  a  look  at  her 
now,  with  the  clear  eyes  looking  into  his  Avith  truth  and  deter- 
mination dAvelling  there,  told  him  he  dealt  Avith  no  child,  Avith  no 
ordinary  woman. 


140  MARGARET 

But  his  pride  of  manhood,  his  lofty  sense  of  his  own  intellect 
and  powers,  his  firm  persuasion  that  no  woman  lived  who  could 
brave  his  will  and  yet  not  sutler  for  it,  all,  all  bore  down  the  love 
he  felt  for  the  first  time  in  his  liiu,  and  il'lt  so  stronyly,  making 
him  think  it  were  better  to  lose  the  heaven  he  panted  for  in  the 
possession  of  her  love,  than  gain  it  by  any  other  means  than  as 
he  willed  it.  * 

"  Come,  child,  you  have  fooled  enough,"  he  said,  kissing  her 
forehead.  "  Get  on  your  things,  and  come  Avith  me  to  the 
brook,  and  pray  let  me  hear  no  more  nonsense  i'rom  my  little 
Lotty's  lips.  Tiie  heroics  Avould  be  bad  enough  to  bear  in 
a  woman  twice  your  age,  much  more  my  child  wife." 

Lotty  obeyed,  and  as  he  watched  her  playful  sports  Avith  her 
Bear,  Avhile  the  trout,  unheeded  by  liim,  took  the  tempting  fly, 
he  said  to  himself,  "  Little,  silly  thing !  as  if  I,  a  man  of  the 
world,  with  twice  lier  experience,  had  to  be  taught  how  to  woo. 
She  shall  love  me,  that  I  ha\'e  sworn  to  myself.  As  she  says 
herself,  her  love  is  worth  some  trouble,  and  having  often  railed 
at  matrimonial  mawkishness,  I  must  not  grumble  if  it  does  cost 
me  some  trouble  to  break  her  in.  When  1  have  conquered  her, 
when  I  have  brought  her  to  my  arms  with  penitence  and 
beseeching  love,  then,  and  then  only,  shall  she  see  tliat  the  earth 
contains  not  a  thing  I  prize  so  much  as  her  very  shadow,  wild, 
wicked,  little  thing  !  No  conqueror  of  worlds  ever  triumphed  as 
I  shall ;  no  gambler  ever  played  for  such  a  stake." 

"Ah,  Philip,"  said  Lotty,  "  that  must  be  a  fine  fellow  ;   you 
i  have  had  him  on  the  last  ten  minutes." 

'      In  some  confusion  Philip   drew   in  a  little  trout,  about   the 
\length  of  his  finger,  wliose  agonized  attempts  to  escape  from  the 
fatal  hook  had  been  quite  unheeded  until  that  moment. 

Luckily  Lotty  Avas  sumn^.oned  to  the  house  by  visitors. 

It  was  Florence  and  her  husband. 

"  Well !  my  dear,  Frederick  and  I  have  come  over  to  see 
your  abode,  and  upon  my  Avord  'lis  vastly  pretty,  quite  a  l)ijou 
of  a  place.  Tliis  clematis  puts  me  in  mind  of  those  beaut itul 
jvvrcaths  that  Forster  and  Duncan  sent  us  ior  tlie  ball,  after  ]Mar- 
'garet's  marriage.  They  are  as  pretty  as  if  artificial,  are  tiiey 
not,  Fred?  AVcll,  my  dear,  and  Avliere  ismylitrd?  tlic  servant 
said  fisliing,  so  I  suppose  Ave  sliall  not  be  favored  Avilh  a  view  of 
his  liighness." 

"  I  canuot  say,  indeed,"  said  Lotty ;  "  but  if  you  Avish  par- 
ticularly to  see  him,  Ave  Avill  Avalk  down  to  the  brook." 

"  O,  no,  my  dejir,  avc  don't  care,  do  avc,  Frederick?  Ave  just 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  141 

came  over  to  see  you  —  I  am  not  quite  happy  about  you, 
my  dear,  such  a  child  as  you  are,  married  to  that  tall,  dark 
morose  man,  handsome  as  he  is.  Yet,  you  know,  '  handsome 
is  as  handsome  does,'  is  it  not,  Fred?  and  we  both  think 
he  is  horridly  jealous,  and  of  a  frightful  temper.  Don't  we, 
Fred?" 

"  That  is  your  opinion,"  began  Mr.  Bankes. 

"  And  yours  too,"  said  Florence,  decidedly. 

"  Why,  yes,  after  what  you  told  me  last  night,  Flo.,  I  am 
decidedly  of  your  opinion,"  returned  Mr.  Bankes. 

"  There  now,  you  see,  Lotty,  so  I  thought  we  could  not  do 
better  than  just  come  over  and  warn  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Lotty. 

"  You  may  well  say  that,  my  dear,  for  it  is  not  every  one 
whom  I  care  to  trouble  my  head  about.  Never  was  any  one  less 
given  to  meddle  or  make  ;  but,  in  your  case,  I  should  be  neglect- 
ing a  positive  duty,  if  I  did  not  tell  you  my  suspicions,  and  give 
you  some  advice.  So  noAV,  Frederick,  you  stay  here  —  Lotty  has 
got  something  to  show  me  up  stairs  ;  and  when  we  have  finished 
our  confab,  let  us  find  you  here." 

"  But  the  dog?  "  said  Fred,  looking  dismally  at  Bear. 

"  O  !  do  not  fear  him,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  see  !  I  will  make  him 
like  you."  And  touching  Mr.  Bankes  on  the  shoulder,  she  con- 
tinued, "  Look,  Bear !  friend,  Lotty's  friend ;  take  care  of 
him." 

"  My  heavens !  don't,"  exclaimed  Florence  ;  '•  if  your  hus- 
band caught  you  doing  that  to  Frederick,  he'd  cut  him  up  into 
mince-meat." 

"  O  !  don't,  Mrs.  Leigh,"  said  the  alarmed  Mr.  Bankes,  with- 
drawing from  Lotty's  touch. 

Lotty  laughed,  saying,  "  I  am  afraid  the  mischief  is  past 
mending  ;  however,  I  will  be  chopped  up  for  you." 

A  shadow  withdi*ew  from  the  window,  unobserved  by  all  but 
herself. 

"  Well !  my  dear,  as  I  was  saying  this  morning  to  Margaret," 
said  Flory,  on  their  way  up  stairs,  "  it  is  quite  a  delight  to  me 
to  see  you  all  once  more.  But  how  subdued  she  is  !  and  before 
I'd  run  after  a  husband  as  she  does  after  Sir  Harold,  I'd  be 
corked  up  in  a  bottle.  He  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  able  to  do 
a  thing  without  her.  Margaret  here,  Margaret  there,  Margaret 
everywhere.     A  boots  at  a  hotel  is  better  off." 

"  Margaret  likes  it ;  besides,  Sir  Harold  is  at  present  under- 
going a  great  deal  of  trouble  and  annoyance  about  his  estates, 


142  MARGARET 

and  Margaret  is  glad  to  assist  him,  as  he  is  not  accustomed 
to  it." 

"  Accustomed  to  it !  no,  I  should  think  not.  My  heavens ! 
what  a  l•o^v  he  made  at  breakfast  this  morning,  about  some 
unluckv  fellow  called  Price.  I  must  say  jMargaret  calmed  him 
down,  and  got  it  all  satisfactorily  settled.  But  to  lead  such  a 
life  ;  why,  she  can  have  no  peace  to  herself,  no  time  to  read  a 
nice  gossipy  novel,  or  try  on  a  new  dress,  or  have  her  hair  done 
up  in  twenty  difierout  styles,  to  see  which  is  most  becoming. 
Ah  !  my  dear,  delighted  as  I  was  to  sec  them,  they  are  a  very 
unhappy  couple  ;  and  though  I  make  a  point  of  never  meddling 
or  mukiuir,  I  shall  be  only  doing  my  duty  to  warn  Margaret." 

"Of  what,  Flo.?"  said  Lotty. 

"'  AVhy  I,  —  that  is,  —  I  shall  tell  her  what  I  think." 

"  Perhaps  she  knows  it  ali'cady." 

"  But,  my  dear,  bystanders  are  bystanders,  and  they  see  more 
than  most  people.  Mai-garet  wants  a  little  advice,  and  I  shall 
make  a  point  of  giving  her  some.  Well !  dear,  your  house  is  a 
picture  of  neatness  and  comfort,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  able 
always  to  keep  it  so.  Ah  !  here  is  your  old  nurse.  How  do 
you  do,  nurse?  I  think  your  mistress  is  lucky  to  get  such  a 
nice  husband,  and  such  a  pretty  house,  before  she  was  seven- 
teen." 

"  I  should  have  been  glad  to  sec  her  still  Miss  Bcauvilliei-s 
for  a  few  years  yet,  Mrs.  Bankes,"  said  the  nurse  ;  and  laying 
her  hand  fondly  on  the  pretty  curls,  she  continued,  "  I  don't 
like  to  see  happy  young  girls  taking  upon  themselves  cares  and 
troubles  that  belit  older  years.  But  my  darling  is  like  no  one 
else  —  God  love  her  !  " 

"  She  is  as  good  a  little  body  as  ever  lived,  nurse  ;  but  now  I 
must  say  good-by,  for  I  have  left  my  dear  Frederick,  who  is 
all  the  fondest  heai't  could  wish,  gentle,  kind,  and  inexpressibly 
attentive  and  artectionate,  quite  alone  in  the  drawing-room.  My 
dear  Lotty,  how  ill  nurse  looks  ;  are  you  sure  the  servants  are 
attentive  and  kind  to  her?  I  know  what  servants  are  ;  brin;r  a 
new  one  in  among  them,  and  they  become  jealous  as  tigers, 
especially  if  they  never  had  a  mistress  before.  I  should  not 
wonder  if  they  hated  both  you  and  nurse.  And  O  !  my  dear, 
suppose  they  siiould  poison  you  —  I  have  heard  of  such   things." 

"  So  liave  I,"  said  Lotty,  highly  amused  at  her  visitor's  ini- 
pertinonee  and  credulity. 

"•  Then,  my  dear,  take  my  advice  ;  make  the  cook  come  in 
and  taste  every  dish  belbrc  your  eyes  ere  you  touch  it." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  143 

"  That  will  be  rather  troublesome  :  I  think  I  will  take  my 
chance." 

"  But  Avhora  have  we  here,  my  clear?  —  a  carriage  driving  to 
the  door.  Dear  me  !  it  is  only  Carry  ;  such  a  figure  too,  and 
that  frightful  baby  with  her.  I  really  do  think  that  child  will 
be  an  idiot,  it's  so  odd  in  its  ways.  So,  my  dear,  I  shall  go, 
for  really  one  never  can  get  in  a  word  -when  Carry  is  in 
company,  unless  'tis  about  teething  and  croup.  Good-by  !  it 
delights  me  to  see  you  so  Avell  and  happy,  with  such  a  chann- 
ing  husband  and  house  ;  just  what  you  deserve,  you  dear,  good 
soul ! " 

It  was  some  minutes  before  Carry  could  notice  Lotty's  wel- 
come, she  was  so  busy  unpacking  the  baby,  and  seeing  it  was 
not  injured  by  the  drive. 

"Now,  Jane,"  to  her  nurse  who  accompanied  her,  "throw 
this  shaAvl  round  him,  little  darling  !  the  room  is  cold,  I  think. 
Do  you  think  Ave  did  right  to  take  off  his  pelisse,  Jane  ?  " 

"  Well,  he  might  miss  it  when  we  came  to  go  again,"  said 
Jane. 

"  Perhaps  he  might !  but,  Lotty,  would  you  mind  shutting 
the  window?  I  was  determined  to  call  upon  you,  Lotty,  and  as 
Margaret  offered  me  the  carriage  to  take  baby  a  drive,  I  was 
glad  of  the  opportunity  of  bringing  him  here  for  your  old  nurse 
to  see  ;  she  must  be  such  a  judge  of  fine  babies." 

"  I  Avill  ring  for  her,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Poor  little  man !  "  said  the  old  nurse,  Avhen  she  arrived,  and 
took  in  her  tender  arms  the  little,  Aveak,  Avabbling  thing  ;  "  and 
Avhat  have  they  Avrapped  you  up  like  this  for,  I  Avonder?  Why, 
ma'am,  you  should  have  him  out  on  this  fine,  sunny  day,  spraAvl- 
ing  on  the  grass,  Avith  as  little  clothes  on  him  as  can  Avell  be." 

"  Good  heavens  !  nurse,  AA'hat  a  barbarous  notion.  It  Avould 
kill  my  darling." 

"  He'd  be  a  deal  stronger  and  better-looking,"  said  nurse,  not 
perceiving  Mrs.  Royston's  shocked  maternal  jpanity.  "  Why, 
ma'am,  look  at  all  my  Mr.  Beauvilliers,  six  of  them  in  a  roAV, 
every  one  about  six  feet  high,  and  stout  in  proportion — not  a 
sickly,  not  a  Aveakly  one  in  the  lot.  They  have  been  every  day 
as  wasn't  to  say  Avet,  a  sprawling  on  their  little  backs  on  tlie 
grass,  from  May  to  September,  and  nothing  on  'em  but  a  bit 
deqency  flannel." 

"  But  not  Miss  Lotty  !  " 

"  Eh  !  but  I  have  had  Miss  Lotty  out  from  six  in  the  moi-n- 
ing  to  six  at  night,  her  little  legs  and  arms  blue  with  cold,  and 


144  MARGARET 

yet  she'd  cry  to  go  in,  and  slap  my  face  so  pretty.  O,  she  was 
sensible,  was  she  !  I  had  a  miud  to  think  often  she  was  a  fairy, 
she  was  that  clever." 

"  But  she  is  very  little,  nurse." 

"  So  she  be,  ay,  so  she  be  ;  but  past  all  belief,  sensible." 

"  So  is  my  boy ;  you  cannot  think  what  faces  he  makes  if  he 
has  not  sugar  in  his  food.  But  look  at  his  legs,  nurse  ;  Mr. 
Eoyston  teases  me  so,  and  savs  he  is  sure  to  be  bandv-lejrired." 

"  He  has  a  great  look  on't,"  said  nurse,  more  candidly  than 
politely  ;  ''  but  Master  Harold's  the  bonny  boy.  I  never  seed 
such  another  out  of  my  lot." 

Nurse  having  now  completely  finished  herself  in  Mrs.  Roys- 
ton'j;  eyes,  as  a  nurse  of  discernment,  was  suffered  to  depart ; 
and  telling  Jane  to  pack  up  the  precious  child  again,  Caroline, 
while  assisting  in  this  interesting  business,  talked  to  Lotty. 

"  It  is  a  wonder  to  me  how  Margaret's  boy  does  thrive ;  she 
has  it  down  at  stated  times  ;  but  would  you  believe  it,  she  never 
tastes  its  food — (O  Jane,  take  care,  he  has  got  that  purple 
ribbon  in  his  mouth)  — or  sees  his  clothes  aired —  (I  wonder  if 
there  can  be  anything  poisonous  in  the  dye  of  that  ribbon),  or 
comes  up  to  the  nursery  at  unexpected  times  ;  in  fact,  she  never 
worries  herself  in  the  least  about  him.  And  he  looks  just  the 
sort  of  child  to  go  off  in  a  fit,  or  have  croup.  (Now  my  dar- 
ling's little  beauty  hat,  with  its  pretty,  titty,  little  feather.) 
And  he  has  such  plain  clothes — brown  Holland  frocks,  act- 
ually !  and  he  to  be  a  young  bai-onet.  (Now,  then,  Jane,  walk 
him  up  and  down  before  the  window  until  the  carriage  comes 
round,  Avhore  I  can  see  him.)  I  could  not  answer  to  my  con- 
science, Lotty,  being  such  a  mother  ;  and  I  am  sure  I  hope  to 
goodness  Flo.  will  never  have  any.  Her  mind  is  wholly  taken 
up  with  finery  and  gossiping,  and  I  feel  ready  to  cry  at  what 
Ler  baby  will  suffer." 

"  It  is  to  be  hoped  she  will  not  Have  one,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Here  is  the  carriage.  I  must  not  keep  it  Availing.  Good- 
bv,  dear !  delighted  to  see  you  so  well  and  happy.  Now, 
darling  ! " 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  145 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

Her  visitors  being  gone,  and  knowing  that  Philip  was  not 
likely  to  appear  again  soon,  after  what  he  had  accidentally  heard 
at  the  window,  Lotty  called  her  Bear,  and  went  to  sit  under  the 
great  chestnut  tree. 

"  Ah  !  Bear,  dear  Bear  !  come  with  me,  and  we  will  have  a 
little  flirtation." 

To  the  innocent  and  unsuspecting  world.  Bear  usually  ap- 
peared as  a  dog  of  such  stern  gravity  and  profound  wisdom, 
that  many  who  beheld  him  were  inspired  with  awe,  and  almost 
all  with  fear.  But  now,  what  a  change  under  the  influence  of 
those  magical  words,  and  the  bright  smile  that  accompanied 
them  !  Bear  became  a  great,  unwieldy  puppy,  of  most  frolic- 
some mood.  One  moment  he  had  a  huge  paw  on  each  of 
Lotty's  shoulders  ;  then  he  was  away,  like  the  rushing  breeze, 
impelled  by  the  same  viewless  purpose  as  it  were.  Then,  like  a 
sinister,  villanous  dog,  he  would  appear  again  from  behind,  and 
stealing  with  noiseless  footfall,  would  pounce  upon  his  little  mis- 
tress like  an  overwhelming  avalanche  of  Bear,  sending  her  roll- 
ing on  the  sward. 

"  O  !  Bear,  Bear,  how  wild  you  are  to-day,"  said  Lotty,  quite 
breathless,  at  last,  in  her  endeavors  to  escape  his  mad  gambols. 
"  Come,  let  us  sit  quiet  now,  and  talk  a  Avliile,  like  discreet 
people.  Well,  Bear,  would  you  be  Carry?  No!  you  say. 
Then,  would  you  be  Flory?  No,  again.  Then,  Bear,  would 
you  be  Lotty  ?  Ah !  Bear,  think  again.  Lotty,  at  this  age, 
with  such  a  long  life  before  her,  and  no  bright,  sunshiny  hope. 
I  have  hope,  do  you  say?  I  think  you  are  riglit,  Bear;  and 
besides,  I  would  not  be  Carry  or  Flo.  ;  I  would  rather  be  Lotty. 
I  think  as  you  do.  Bear.  For  Ave  have  a  good  purpose  in  hand, 
and  we  have  our  duty  to  do  also.  But  it  was  sad.  Bear,  ah ! 
veiy  sad,  that  Lotty  could  make  no  impression  !  that  poor  Lotty 
still  is  not  understood.  But  if  we  try  to  do  our  duty,  if  we 
steadily  pursue  our  way,  if  Ave  hope  the  best,  pray  for  tlie  best 
—  ah  I  Bear,  say  Ave  do  not  succeed,  still  that  is  better  than 
being  Carry  or  Flo.,  and  life  Avill  pass  quickly,  looking  for  that 
aim,  seeking  that  purpose.  And  then,  Bear,  if  Ave  succeed, 
if  Ave  open  the  blinded  eyes,  make  the  deaf  ear  to  hear,  enlarge 
the  heart  to  understand — ah !  that  is  angels'  work  ;  but  we  caD 

13 


146  MARGARET 

help,  and  then,  indeed,  shall  we  be  rewarded.  The  uncongenial 
tie  will  seem  to  have  been  a  blessed  bond,  the  long  life  of  dead 
affections  will  blossom  with  roses.  But,  Bear,  I  doubt  it.  Did 
you  say,  'Doubt  not,  Lotty?'  Why,  Bear?  I  tried  to-day. 
My  heart  was  proud  and  angry,  but  I  did  it,  because  it  was  my 
duty.  Did  you  see  me,  laying  my  hand  on  my  heart  to  keep  it 
down  ?  The  All-Merciful  helped  me ;  the  All-Powerfnl  will 
assist  me.  I  lold  myself  in  the  mantle  of  Faith  and  Hope.  But 
I  agree,  my  Bear,  I  agree  ;  look  not  so  Avistfully  ;  there  are  two 
people  in  the  world  with  whom  I  would  not  change  places." 

"And  to  whom  are  you  talking,  Lotty?"  said  Philip,  as  he 
drew  near,  imexpectedly. 

"  To  Bear,"  she  said.  "  Bear  knows  all  I  say ;  and  he 
knows  as  well  as  I  do  that  wc  have  been  holding  a  very 
scandalous  conversation,   and  abusing  our  neighbors." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  foolish  child  ? "  said  Philip,  half 
amused. 

"  Bear  said  he  would  not  be  Carry  ;  and  I  said  I  would  not 
be  Flo. ;  and  we  were  well  content  to  remain  as  we  are,  rather 
than  be  either." 

"  I  quite  agi'ee,"  said  Philip.  "  I  did  not  think  you  and 
Bear  could  muster  up  so  much  sense  between  you.  Of  all  the 
insufferable  females  I  ever  saw  —  but  pray  what  Avas  she  saying 
when  I  was  coming  in?  I  know  it  was  something  atrocious, 
you  gave  me  such  a  warning  look." 

"  She  said  you  Avere  jealous,  and  would  make  mince-meat  of 
her  spouse." 

"  Jealous  of  him,  indeed  !  jealous  of  that  atom  of  dust  — 
that  speck  of  nonentity  I  But  you  had  your  hand  on  his  arm, 
Lotty." 

"  Yes,  to  shoAV  Bear  he  Avas  a  friend." 

"  Then,  don't  do  so  again  ;  for,  if  you  prevent  Bear  from 
eating  him,  1  shall  certainly  kick  him  into  the  next  parish." 

"  I  Avish  to  go  this  evening  to  see  Millicent,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Wliv  on  carlli  cannot  you  stay  at  home?" 

"She" is  ill,  Philip." 

"  I  really  do  not  wonder  at  it  ;  tliat  man,  Herbert,  having 
the  constitution  of  a  horse,  thinks  his  wife  ouglil  to  have  the 
same.  He  will  kill  licr  some  day,  <lragging  her  about  to  schools, 
parish  meetings,  and  sick  old  women.  And  then  when  she  is 
dead,  he  will,  I  suppose,  canonize  her,  and  think  her  a  saint  in 
heaven  ;   will  thank  God  for  taking  her  to  a  better  world." 

"  1  think  he  is  blinded  ut  present  by  over-zeal ;   but  1  trust 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  147 

he  will  have  no  such  shock  to  cool  his  ardor  as  the  loss  of  his 
Milly,"  said  Lotty, 

"  It  would  serve  him  right  if  he  had." 

"  But  may  I  go,  Philip  ?  " 

"  How  long  will  you  be  away?  " 

"  Two  hours." 

"  If  you  will  promise  to  be  at  home  by  four  o'clock  you  may 
go.  I  have  a  respect  for  Mrs.  Herbert,  I  must  owu  ;  and  really 
should  grieve  if  we  lost  her." 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

"  Little  Lotty,  how  pleased  I  am  to  see  your  sweet  face," 
said  Milly,  when  Lotty  arrived ;  "  and  Margaret  will  be  here 
in  a  few  minutes,  too,  and  it  will  amuse  me  so  much  to  hear 
you  talk." 

"  Is  your  cough  very  bad,  Milly?  " 

"  Yes,  at  night ;  and  the  doctors  say  I  shall  not  get  rid  of  it 
until  my  baby  is  born.     Here  is  Queen  Margaret." 

"  Ah  !  how  nice  this  is,"  said  Queen  Meg. 

"  Only  you  two.  Do  you  know,  I  do  not  think  I  am  ill-tem- 
pered ;  but  Flo,  and  Carry  are  rather  too  much  for  me,  all  alone. 
I  must  beg,  Lotty,  that  you  and  Philip  will  come  and  stay  with 
us  while  they  remain." 

"  You  must  write  and  ask  Philip,"  said  Lotty. 

"  What  a  good  little  wife  !  who  would  have  thought,  Milly, 
that  our  wild,  little,  saucy  Lotty,  would  have  made  such  a  pat- 
tern wife !  " 

"  But  she  is  very  learned  on  the  matter  ;  don't  you  remember 
the  matrimonial  harangue  she  gave  us  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  how  true  her  prophecy  about  Flory  and  Carry 
has  proved.  Well,  we  shall  be  all  together  next  week,  and  may 
compare  notes.  Flo.,"  continued  Margaret,  "  is  very  ill-natured 
about  Augusta,  and  says  very  unkind  things  of  her." 

"  I  do  not  like  Augusta,"  said  Lotty ;  "  she  is  mischievous, 
and  I  am  sorry  she  is  coming." 

"  She  can  do  no  harm  to  us,  at  all  events,  Lotty,"  said  Mar- 
garet, in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  I  think,  if  she  wished  it,  she  would  make  Gerald  elope 
with  her." 


148  MARGARET 

They  both  laughed  at  this  speech,  ami  apkcd  Lotty  if  she  was 
jealous,  whicli  made  her  pout,  in  school-girl  fashion. 

Gerald  at  this  moment  came  in,  and,  addressing  IMargaret, 
said,  "■  I  Avish,  I.aily  Leigh,  you  Avould  use  your  iutlueuce  with 
Sir  Harold  not  to  employ  the  Joneses.  Both  father  and  sou 
are  notorious  drtinkards  and  Sabbath-breakers." 

"  Ah,  Gerald  !  it  rejoices  me  so  much  to  see  Harold  employ- 
ing any  one,  as  well  as  working  himself,  that  I  could  not,  would 
not,  say  aught  that  might  lead  to  another  change." 

"  But  think  of  the  sin,  think  of  the  responsibility  you  draw 
upon  yourself^  in  giving  such  men  encouragement  ;  wliy,  you 
are  answerable  before  God  lor  giving  them  the  means  of  com- 
mitting such  sins." 

''  By  and  by,  Gerald,  wlien  Harold  is  more  settled  in  his 
plans,  then  we  may  try  ;  but  not  now,  I  entreat  you." 

"•  Pardon  me  ;  you  are  not  justified  in  so  doing.  Are  these 
men  to  go  on  "Spinning — to  be  encouraged  therein,  because  you 
have  not  suHicicnt  moral  rectitude  in  you  to  urge  Sir  Harold  to 
do  what  he  ought  ?  " 

"  In  other  words,"  said  Lotty,  "you  think  Margaret  ought  to 
let  her  husband  take  his  chance  of  sinking  into  the  idle,  listless 
man  he  was,  rather  than  that  the  Joneses  should  make  beasts 
of  themselves  ?  " 

"  Exactly,  Mrs.  Leigh." 

*'  I  will  not  do  it,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Then  1  must,"  said  Gerald  ;  "  it  ought  to  be  done,  and  it 
must." 

"  1  thought,"  said  Lotty,  "  that  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  left 
the  stern  principles  of  duty  and  f)bedience  to  be  cnlbrccd  by  other 
professions  than  his  own.  AVhile  following  the  footsteps  of  his 
Blessed  Master,  he  persuades  men  to  enter  tlic  True  Fold,  with 
gentle  words,  holy  pity,  and  calm  forbearance." 

"  But  this  duty  is  so  clear,  so  simple,"  said  Gerald  ;  "  am  I 
to  pander  to  the  weakness  of  a  sensible  man,  such  as  I  know  Sir 
Harold  to  be,  when  he  likes  " 

"  Yes,"  interrui)tL'(l  Lolly,  "•  if  by  this  means  you  save  him." 

"  Mrs.  Leigh  !  1  am  shocked  :  pardon  me,  but  your  doctrine 
is  paiiifiil  !  SiifT'cr  inc.  some  day,  to  talk  this  matter  over  with 
you.  At  prcsiiit,  ^lilly,  I  must  go  to  tiie  school.  Are  you  suf- 
ficiently well  to  accompany  me?  " 

"  No,  that  she  is  not,"  said  IVIai-garet. 

"  But  remember  how  inconvenient  it  is,"  said  Gerald. 

"  I  know  it  is,  love,"  said  Milly  ;  "but  I  am  indeed  quite 
unfit  for  the  exertion." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  149 

"  So,  good-by,  Gerald,"  said  Lotty,  ''  and  as  you  go  to  the 
school,  here  is  something  for  you  to  meditate  about.  I  don't 
think  high-church  clergymen,  as  they  are  called,  ought  to  marry, 
they  make  such  very  uncomfortable  husbands.  They  look  vipon 
their  wives  as  machines  to  administer  to  their  bodily  comforts, 
and  as  slaves  to  carry  out  their  ultra  views.  They  have  no  con- 
sideration for  either  their  personal  or  mental  objections  to  such 
things.  The  duty  of  making  them  happy,  of  being  courteous, 
kind,  and  forbearing,  seems  forgotten.  They  are  on  such  a  high 
pinnacle  of  excellence,  they  cannot  stoop  to  the  minor  virtues." 

"  You  are  severe,  Mrs.  Leigh  ;  uncharitable,"  said  Gerald, 
with  mournful  fervor. 

"  I  have  borrowed  the  words,  Gerald,  but  I  would  have  you 
weigh  them.  Did  you  not  promise  and  vow  to  cherish  Milli- 
cent,  in  sickness  and  health,  until  death  parted  you?  Death 
speaks  in  that  cough." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Gerald,  springing  to  Millicent's  si^e. 

"  It  is  but  too  true,  love,  that  I  am  far  from  well,"  said  Milli- 
cent,  gently  to  him  ;  "  but  my  death  shall  never  rest  at  your 
door,  Gerald.  I  am  no  weak  wife,  not  to  say  what  I  think  ; 
neither  are  you  so  severe  to  your  Milly,  that  I  should  fear  to 
appeal  to  you.  I  overtaxed  my  strength  in  the  winter,  dearest, 
and  suffer  for  it  now ;  but  leave  me  at  present,  and  you  shall 
hear  the  doctor's  opinion,  and  all  I  have  to  say,  this  evening." 

He  was  reluctant  to  leave  her,  but  she  was  getting  flushed 
and  nervous,  and  he  listened  to  Margaret's  advice  to  let  her  rest 
now. 

But  he  begged  Lotty  to  follow  him  into  another  room.  Tak- 
ing both  her  hands  in  his,  with  eyes  full  of  anguish,  he  looked 
into  hers.     "  Is  her  life  in  danger?  " 

"  I  believe  not,  Gerald." 

"  How  lon<?  has  she  been  thus  ailino-?  " 

"  I  noticed  how  thin  and  pale  she  had  become  when  I  came 
to  Hidi  Lei^h." 

"  And  I  never  saw  it,  never  heeded  it.  Ah,  Lotty,  if  I  am 
to  lose  her  —  so  long  waited  for  —  only  just  won,  what  good 
will  my  life  be  to  me  ?  " 

"  Pray  to  God,  Gerald,  and  put  faith  in  your  prayers." 

"Faith!   Lotty?" 

"  Yes,  faith  ;  you  weary  yourself  to  death  —  you  work  night 
and  day  —  you  take  no  meal  in  peace  —  you  give  yourself  no 
relaxation  —  you  create  a  vexed  spirit  within  you.  And  what 
do  you  gain  by  all  this  ?     Nothing.     Pray  to  God,  and  suffer 

13* 


150  MARGARET 

him  to  answer  your  prayers,  without  putting  yourself  in  the 
place  of  God.  AVhy  beseech  him  to  grant  you  a  favor,  and 
then  try  to  do  it  yourself? " 

"  Lotty,   Lotty,  your  doctrine   is  not  tenable  ;  but  I  go  to 
think  the  matter  over." 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

It  wanted  five  minutes  to  four  o'clock  as  Lotty  rode  up  the 
avenue  to  High  Leigh.     Philip  was  sitting  under  the  veranda. 

"  What  made  you  ride  across  the  fields,  instead  of  coming  by 
the  road  ?  "  said  he,  gloomily. 

"  I  was  afi;aid  of  being  late,  Philip  ;  the  fields  are  two  miles 
shorter." 

"  So  you  would  rather  break  your  neck  than  fail  in  your  ap- 
pointment." 

"  It  looks  like  it,"  said  Lotty. 

Was  there  no  sentiment  in  Pliilip's  breast  that  prompted  him 
to  gather  the  little  fair  thing  to  his  lieart,  and  clasping  her 
close,  bid  her  break  every  promise  to  him  sooner  than  risk  that 
dearest,  most  precious  life?  So  lovely  as  she  looked,  too,  the 
thick  curls  in  disorder,  the  excited  eyes  looking  wonderful  in 
size  and  brilliance,  the  rich  peach-bloom  on  her  cheek,  and  the 
red  lips  parted,  as  the  quick  breath  came  and  went,  all  showing 
the  haste  with  which  she  had  ridden  to  fulfil  her  promise. 

No,  there  Avas  but  one  feeling  besides  the  uncontrollable  ad- 
miration with  which  he  gazed  upon  her  ;  and  that  was  a  mean, 
unworthy  thought,  a  fruit  from  the  upas-tree,  that  dwelt  within 
tliat  fuio,  handsome  form. 

lie  would  have  given  his  right  hand  that  she  had  been  five 
minutes  behind  the  time  rather  than  before.  If  she  would  but 
do  one  thing  Avith  which  he  could  find  fault  ;  if  but  for  one  fleet- 
ing moment  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  upbraid  ;  if  lie  could  see 
those  fearless  eyes  droop  but  an  instant  before  his  ;  he  woidd 
rejoice,  as  men  do,  when  the  life-wish  of  their  heart  is  gratified. 

"Margaret  is  dose  biliiiid  me,"  said  Lotty;  "that  is,  she  is 
coming  by  the  road,  and  will  be  here  in  five  minutes." 

"  I  thought  you  were  so  fijiid  of  Margaret  that  you  spent 
every  moment  of  your  time  in  her  company  ;  why,  then,  did  you 
not  accompany  her  ?  " 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  151 

"  I  should  have  been  late,  and  that,  Bear,  is  a  thing  you  and 
I  do  not  like  to  be  when  we  have  made  a  promise,  is  it  not,  old 
fellow?"  And  Lotty  departed  to  put  herself  in  walking  trim, 
Margaret  arriving  before  she  returned. 

There  was  something  in  Margaret  that  made  it  almost  impos- 
sible for  any  one  to  refuse,  did  she  make  a  request.  This  might 
arise,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  fact,  that  she  seldom  had  a 
favor  to  ask  which  was  not  to  be  more  gratifying  to  the  con- 
ferrer  than  to  herself. 

In  the  second  place,  there  was  such  a  low,  sweet  tone  in  her 
voice,  that  no  one  could  answer  until  the  soft  sound  ceased. 
Thus  Margaret  could  plead  all  her  arguments  ere  she  was  inter- 
rupted. 

Thirdly,  the  simple  earnestness  of  her  manner  made  all  her 
requests  seem  to  be  such,  that  it  became  not  Aveak,  mortal  man 
to  resist  an  angel's  pleading.  And  then  her  beauty  —  the  Leighs 
ever  paid  a  sort  of  devotion  to  beauty  ;  so  that  all  these  things 
combined,  when  Lotty  joined  them,  she  found  Margaret  had 
a  ked,  Philip  had  consented,  and  they  were  to  spend  a  week  at 
Court  Leigh. 

"  Horrid  bore  !  "  said  Philip,  as  he  returned  from  handing 
Mai-garet  into  her  carriage.  "  Do  you  hear  me?  "  he  continued  ; 
"  this  is  a  horrid  bore  !  " 

"  Going  to  Court  Leigh,  Philip?"  answered  Lotty. 

"  Yes,"  said  Philip,  "  to  be  tormented  by  the  silliest  lot  ot 
people  I  ever  met." 

"  I  suppose  we  need  not  go,  unless  you  like  it,"  said  Lotty. 

Philip  was  silent ;  he  had  made  the  remark  in  order  to  extort 
from  Lotty  whether  Margaret  and  herself  had  not  made  the  plan 
first,  and  also  if  Lotty  was  anxious  to  go.  He  could  find  out 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  so  he  was  forced  to  speak  out. 

"  Pray  did  you  and  Lady  Leigh  arrange  this  invitation  be- 
fore you  consulted  me  ?  " 

"  Margaret  told  me  she  meant  to  ask  us.  I  told  her  to  write 
to  you,  and  Millicent  said  she  had  better  ask  viva  voce." 

"  I  knew  it  was  a  concerted  scheme.  I  felt  sure  I  was  to  be 
dragged  into  an  unexpected  consent.     I  shall  not  go  !  " 

"  Very  well,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Of  covu-se,  you  wish  to  go  ?  "  said  Philip. 

"  I  am  afraid  Bear  and  I  are  not  so  amiable.  We  would 
rather  visit  Margaret  alone,  would  we  not,  Bear,  after  that  sad, 
naughty  conversation  we  had  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  we  must  go,"  said  PhUip,  "  as  I  promised." 


152  MARGARET 

"  Just  as  you  please,  Philip." 

He  looked  at  her,  putting  his  fishing-rod  together  with  her 
little  white  fingers.  He  knew  she  spoke  the  truth,  but  nothing 
prompted  him  to  say,  "  I  am  sorry,  Lotty,  that  I  fancied  other- 
wise." 

Gerald  allowed  no  private  thoughts  to  interfere  with  his  duties 
at  the  school.  As  soon  as  that  was  over,  with  strong,  vigorous 
strides  he  took  his  Avay,  five  miles  off,  to  Dr.  IMurray.  The 
good  doctor,  knowing  the  character  of  his  visitor,  made  no 
secret  of  his  fears  regarding  Mrs.    Herbert's  health. 

"  I  should,"  said  he,  "  be  very  uneasy,  indeed,  but  for  her 
present  condition.  Her  child  born,  I  then  shall  be  able  to  judge 
how  much  her  constitution  is  allected,  and  how  much  may  be 
imputed  to  this  cause." 

"  And  in  case  of  the  former.  Dr.  Murray?"  asked  Gerald. 

"  Why,  then,  Mrs.  Herbert  must  go,  for  a  year  or  two,  to  a 
warmer  climate." 

"  To  save  her  life?"  murmured  Gerald,  hoarsely. 

"  Nothing  else  can  save  it,  my  dear  sir,"  answered  the  kind 
doctor  ;  "  she  seems  to  me  to  have  been  born  with  a  good  con- 
stitution, but  to  have  been  badly  nursed,  or  neglected." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Gerald,  calling  to  remembrance  the  early 
hardships  of  MilHccnt's  childhood. 

"  You  may  rely  upon  one  thing,  Mr.  Herbert ;  deeply  as  I 
know  you  will  feel  anything  I  may  have  to  say,  yoxi  shall  have 
the  truth  as  nakedly  placed  before  you  as  my  science  or  skill 
shows  it  to  me." 

"  Thanks  !  thanks  !  "  was  all  that  Gerald  could  mutter  ;  and 
he  strode  away  over  the  hills,  to  wrestle  with  the  sorrow  that 
seemed  bending  like  a  dark  cloud  over  his  head. 

To  save  her  life,  he  must  leave  his  charge,  his  duties,  his 
people.  He  needed  a  clearer  head  than  was  his  at  present  to 
solve  the  question  as  to  which  he  ought  to  do.  Love  and 
nature  plcadt'd  loudly,  duty  and  conscience  seemed  sternly 
to  rebuke  them.  As  he  turned  his  face  homewards,  beset 
with  such  feelings  of  irresolution  as  had  never  before  assailed 
tliat  firm,  upriglit  mind,  he  met  Harold,  returning  on  horse- 
back from  a  tour  of  ins])ection.  (Jerald  knew  that  the  day 
was  oppressively  hot,  which  might,  in  some  degree,  account  for 
the  vexation  and  weariness  ajipareiit   on  Harold's  countenance. 

A  warning  voice  seemed  to  tell  him,  "  I'ass  on,  and  say 
nothing."  Hut  would  that  be  acting  the  part  of  a  conscientious, 
just,  and  righteous  pastor  of  his  people? 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  153 

"  My  dear  Sir  Harold,"  said  lie,  laying  his  hand  upon  the 
horse's  rein,  "  suffer  me  to  say  a  few  words  to  you." 

An  expression  passed  over  Harold's  face,  which  told,  as  words 
tell,  that  it  wanted  but  this  drop  of  vexation  to  brim  the  already 
full  cup. 

"  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  he  said,  with  all  the  Leigh  sulkiness 
grafted  on  the  Leigh  obstinacy. 

"  I  will  detain  you  but  a  moment,"  said  Gerald,  his  late  feel- 
ings lending  unusual  softness  to  his  manner ;  "  will  you  oblige 
me  by  not  employing  the  Joneses  ?  " 

"  They  are  the  best  workmen  on  the  estate ! "  exclaimed 
Harold. 

"  But  the  Avorst  men,  Sir  Harold  ;  their  characters  are  too 
notorious  to  be  unknown  to  you  ;  and  the  Browns,  who  have 
had  very  little  work  from  Mr.  Price,  are  the  reverse  —  church- 
going,  religious,  quiet,  sober  people  ;  they  are  at  present  almost 
starving  for  want  of  employment." 

"  And  pray,  Mr.  Herbert,  are  you  aware,"  said  Harold,  turn- 
ing pale  with  anger,  "  that  Price  was  obliged  to  discharge  your 
highly-principled  Browns,  because,  occupied,  I  suppose,  with 
their  prayers  and  Bibles,  their  work  was  totally  useless  ?  Every- 
thing they  did  had  to  be  done  over  again." 

"  Do  not  scoff.  Sir  Harold ;  it  may  be  true  that  the  Joneses 
have  the  worldly  advantage  of  knowing  their  trade  better,  but 
should  that  be  the  plea  of  a  man  gifted  with  every  attribute  of 
sense  and  discernment  that  the  Great  Father  of  us  all  can  be- 
stow? should  that  blind  him  to  the  one  great,  fearful  fact,  that, 
by  employing  such  men,  you  give  them  the  means  of  committing 
sin?  You  put  into  their  hands  the  power  of  damning  their 
immortal  souls  forever  ;  you  place  others  in  the  dangerous  vor- 
tex of  contamination.      O,  Sir  Harold,  be  warned,  be  advised  !  " 

"  I'll  warn  myself  of  one  thing,  I'll  be  advised  of  one  fact," 
said  Harold,  in  a  lordly,  Leigh  passion.  "  You  have  spoken 
your  last  word  to  me,  you  prating  parson  !  .  You  have  looked 
your  last  look  as  a  friend  !  Not  employ  any  person  I  choose, 
ha  !  — Take  your  pick  and  choice,  ha  !  —  I  am  likely  to  do  it ! 
I  feel  disposed,  truly,  to  lose  the  best  workman  I  have,  because 
he  does  not  pray  in  a  becoming  fashion  !  and  I  am  to  take  any 
fool  that  offers,  provided  he  goes  to  church  —  ha  !  " 

And  he  galloped  away  with  an  oath  on  his  lips,  and  anger  in 
his  heart,  while  Gerald  stopped  to  pray  for  him,  with  nothing 
but  pity  in  his  heart.  And  yet,  Gerald,  did  you  not  remember 
your  Master's  precepts,  who  talked  with  publicans  and  sinners, 


154  MARGARET 

who  blessed  the  peacemakers,  who  fed  the  hungry,  healed  the 
sick,  t'or^ave  the  wretclied? 

Did  he  ask  out  of  the  iive  thousand  Avho  were  fed  with  the  five 
barley  loaves  and  two  fishes,  who  were  holy,  who  were  sinners? 

Did  he  demand  of  the  leper,  the  blind,  the  lame,  "  Why  are 
ye  such  sinners  ?     I  heal  but  the  holy  and  good." 

Did  he  not  forgive  the  wi'etched  as  they  looked  on  him,  the 
sinners  as  they  touched  the  hem  of  his  garment?  Gerald,  why 
deem  it  part  of  your  sacred,  holy  calling  to  be  judge  ?  why  pass 
sentence  on  the  sinner,  weak,  wavering,  or  wicked,  ere  death 
has  sealed  up  his  lust  hope?  Kalhcr  help  him  on  his  stumbling 
path,  with  cheering,  persuasive  words  ;  with  examples,  not  com- 
mands ;  with  deeds,  not  judgments  ;  Avitli  hope  and  energy,  not 
despair  and  doom.  Help  the  weak  sinner  on  his  weary  way, 
raise  not  up  before  him  the  steep  mountain  of  perfection,  but  let 
the  hill  of  duty  and  difficulty  slope  gently  to  his  sight,  until 
strengthened  by  exercise,  invigorated  by  hope,  he  looks  behind 
at  Avhat  he  has  surmounted,  and  gathering  joy  and  assurance 
from  the  sight,  he  views  the  higher  hill  and  steeper  path,  that 
rise,  but  as  brighter  goals  to  win,  fairer  scenes  to  view,  until  at 
last  heaven  I'cwards  his  sight. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

EiTHEU  alarmed  at  the  account  of  Millicent,  or  wishful  to  see 
her  before  he  started  on  his  yacht  excursion  Avith  his  half- 
brothers,  Basil  arrived  about  this  time,  accompanied  bv  the  boys. 

They  formed  a  very  fine  addition  to  th(^  party  at  ('(jurt  Leigh, 
spending  most  of  their  time  there,  to  relieve  Milly  of  too  much 
of  their  comjjany.  I>asil  was  all  life  and  spirits,  the  boys  wild 
with  joy,  and  so  full  of  Lotty  and  her  dog,  that  neither  she  nor 
Bear  had  time  to  pass  severer  judgments  on  Flo.  and  Carry. 
Harold  alone  was  in  a  vile  humor  ;  not  even  Basil  coidd  smooth 
him  down  ;  and  J'liilip  was  nearly  as  bad. 

It  liad  I'ornu'il  no  ])art  of  his  phins  for  the  week  they  were  to 
spend  at  Court  Leigh,  that  Lotty  was  to  be  ha])py.  But  she 
was  most  provokingly  so,  renewing  her  ac(|naintance  witli  the 
young  Erles,  and  consorting  willi  Basil,  until  her  husband  was 
driven  half  mad  with  jealousy  and  vexation. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  155 

As  for  Brian  and  Hugh  Erie,  in  true  boy-fashion,  they  made 
no  secret  of  their  admiration  for  Mrs.  Leigh. 

"  Lucky  for  you  I  am  only  fifteen,"  said  Hugh  to  Philip,  "  or 
I  would  fight  you." 

"  No,  you  should  not  have  her,"  said  Brian  ;  "  I  would  fight 
the  world  for  her." 

Most  men  would  have  felt  rather  flattered  as  well  as  amused 
at  their  boyish  enthusiasm ;  but  the  words  sunk  like  poisonous 
weeds  into  Philip's  jealous  heart. 

Augusta  surprised  everybody  by  her  pale  looks  and  subdued 
manner ;  perhaps  some  might  have  noticed  the  burning  blush 
that  rushed  over  her  face  as  Philip  boAved  to  her  with  over- 
strained, and,  as  it  were,  mock  courtesy,  on  their  first  greeting ; 
but  in  a  day  or  so  she  recovered,  and  was  quite  herself. 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  said  Flo.,  "  here  we  are  met  again  once 
more  ;  really  it  is  quite  delightful,  especially  as  I  have  been 
longing  to  show  you  my  darling  Fred ;  to  my  eyes  he  stands 
foremost  as  the  flower  of  the  flock." 

"  In  Avhat  way?"  said  Augusta,  coldly. 

"  Why,  of  all  the  six  husbands  of  us  six  school-girls  —  O ! 
by  the  by,  my  dear,  I  beg  pardon  —  I  quite  forgot  you  do  not 
possess  one  yet.  However,  never  mind,  I  dare  say  your  turn 
will  come  shortly.  I  know  a  cousin  of  Fred's,  to  whom  I  dare 
say  I  could  introduce  you  ;  very,  very  like  him,  dear  fellow ! 
only  not  nearly  so  handsome,  and  shorter,  with  rather  red  hair, 
but  very  amial)le.  He  would  do  anything  I  tell  him,  he  is  so 
sensible  ;  so  we  Avill  have  you  two  together,  and  see  if  we  cannot 
manage  it.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  not  one  of  all  the  husbands 
equals  my  dearest  Frederick  in  iny  eyes." 

"  I  should  hope  not,  Flo.,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Ah  !  there  you  are,  you  little  sarcastic  Bear  ;  but  I  know 
well  enough  what  you  mean,  poor  little  dear !  However,  we 
will  say  nothing ;  it  is  not  every  one  who  is  so  fortunate  as 
I  am." 

"  Dear  little  darling  !  "  interrupted  a  voice,  by  her  side  ;  "  is 
it  waking,  little  pet !   and  would  it  stretch  its  itty  pretty  arms  ?  " 

"Bless  me,  what  a  fool  you  make  of  yourself.  Carry  !"  said 
Flo.,  "  as  if  there  never  had  been  a  baby  before  ;  besides,  you 
really  must  allow  me  to  give  you  a  little  advice.  It  is  very 
inconvenient,  not  to  say  disagreeable,  always  to  have  a  baby  in 
the  drawing-room." 

"  You  must  do  without  my  company,  then,  if  you  dislike  that 
of  my  darling  child." 


156  MARGARET 

"  "We  will  try  and  bear  the  loss,  all  the  more  from  knowing 
that  you  will  not  miss  us." 

"  It  is  ii  motlier's  duty  to  attend  to  her  child,  precious,  help- 
less thing !  " 

"  Then  where  is  the  use  of  your  having  a  nurse,  I  should  like 
to  know?  My  dear,  I  never  like  to  interfere  in  other  people's 
matters,  but  I  think  it  my  duty  to  tell  you,  as  my  oldest  school 
friend,  that  you  and  your  baby  are  perfect  plagues." 

"  Tliank  you  !  "  said  Carry,  Avith  bitter  civility  ;  and,  catching 
up  her  child's  paraphernalia,  she  also  swept  herself  and  it  out 
of  the  room. 

"  There  !  I  thought  I  should  banish  her  ;  now  we  will  have  a 
little  rational  conversation.  I  make  a  point  of  always  speaking 
the  truth  to  Carry,  and  I  mean  further  to  tell  her  that  she  ought 
to  take  a  lesson  from  Margaret.  By  the  by,  where  is  Marga- 
ret? running  after  Sir  Harold,  I'll  be  bound;  now  mark  ray 
words,  she  will  sicken  him  of  her  company.  Though  my  dearest 
Frederick  says  he  would  never  leave  my  side  night  or  day,  I 
won't  permit  it ;  I  say,  '  No,  Frederick,  I  know  the  upshot  of  it 
all ; '  and  besides,  what  is  more  tiresome  than  having  a  man 
dangling  after  you  all  day?  no  time  for  nice  little  chats  about 
fashions,  dresses,  and  one's  lovers." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  done  with  the  latter  now,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Ah  :  ah  !  sly  little  puss  !  "  said  Flo.  ;  "  but  at  all  events,  if 
1  have  done,  or  ought  to  have  done,  Augusta  has  not  ;  now, 
my  dear,  do  tell  us,  give  us  a  history  of  all  your  lovers." 

Flo.  had  a  very  uidadylike  liabit  of  winking  with  one  eye  ; 
and,  as  she  made  this  remark,  she  winked  at  Lotty  with  unmis- 
takable meaniu'/.  She  meant  to  make  Aumista  rehearse  all  her 
fibs  about  Philip  and  others,  by  which  she  and  I>otty  would  have 
some  fun. 

'■'  AnylhiMg  tlie  matter  with  your  eye?"  said  Lotty,  in  answer 
to  the  wink,  and  thinking  it  quite  fair  she  should  also  have  her 
amusement. 

"  My  eye?  no,  child  ;   what  an  innocent  you  are  !  " 

"If  she  is,"  said  Augusta,  loftily,  "1  am  not;  and  did  I 
think  it  needful  to  punish  vulgar  impertiucuce,  Mrs.  liankes 
ahoidd  know  my  o])inion  of  her." 

"  NVhii'li,  luckily,  is  oi'  no  consequence  to  Mrs.  Baukes,"  said 
that  lady,  with  high  gusto  at  having  provoked  Augusta.  "  Non- 
sense, my  dear !  don't  get  up  on  your  stills  ;  for  though  we 
know  little  J^otty  cut  you  out,  you  have  had  a  narrow  cscHpe, 
I  um  sure  wIh-u  1  look  at  that  man,  really,  my  dear  Lotty,  I 
quite  shudder ! " 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  167 

"  Why  do  you  look  at  him  then?  "  said  Lotty. 

"  AVhat  a  little  imperturbable  thing  it  is,"  said  Flo.,  looking  a 
little  disconcerted. 

"  I  think,"  said  Augusta,  "it  is  no  mark  of  good  breeding, 
Mrs.  Bankes,  to  speak  thus  of  a  man  before  his  wife." 

"  But  Lotty  knows  my  way,  and  that  I  must  ever  speak  as  I 
think.  Not  but  what  he  is  wonderfully  handsome,  and  what 
you  call  very  distingue-lookmg  ;  and  upon  the  whole,  I  don't 
wonder,  Augusta,  that  you  have  fretted  so  about  him,  for  you 
would  have  made  a  very  striking  couple  —  he  is  so  dark,  and 
you  so  fair ;  in  fact,  you  would  have  suited  him,  in  point  of 
appearance  and  contrast,  much  better  than  Lotty." 

"  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  make  him  over  to  you  now,  Augusta," 
said  Lotty  ;  "  I  am  afraid  the  laAv  would  interfere." 

"  Spare  your  pity,  child  ;  no  one  envies  you,"  replied  Augusta, 
looking  at  Lotty  with  anything  but  loving  eyes. 

"  No,  tliat  they  don't.  Heavens  !  how  he  scowls  at  those  fine 
boys !  By  the  by,  how  handsome  Lord  Erlscourt  is  !  now  there 
is  a  man  for  you  !  except  my  own  Frederick,  I  never  saw  one 
whom  I  could  sooner  trust  Avith  my  affections." 

Lotty  laughed  merrily,  partly  at  the  idea  of  comparing  the 
little,  insignificant  Bankes  with  Basil,  partly  at  Flo.'s  thinking 
she  had  any  affections. 

"  Why  do  you  laugh,  child?"  said  Flo.,  who,  though  perfectly 
well  satisfied  with  herself  in  every  respect,  yet  was  keenly  alive 
to  ridicule. 

"  Do  you  really  wish  to  know?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,  I  desire  it." 
y  "  Then,  because  Basil  would  make  two  Mr.  Bankes,  and  your 
aflfections  are  always  placed  on  your  last  new  dress." 

"  What  a  little  pert  thing  !  however,  my  dear,  you  are  so  far 
right,  I  love  a  new  dress.  I  think  it  is  my  duty,  for  Frederick's 
sake,  to  dress  well.  So  you  call  him  '  Basil ; '  very  familiar, 
upon  my  word  ;  and  pray  what  does  my  Lord  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  He  has  never  said  anything  as  yet." 

"  Then  take  my  advice,  ray  dear,  and  don't  do  it  again,  or 
we  sliall  be  having  mischief.  I  am  a  very  good  judge  in  such 
matters  ;  I  shall  never  forget  Frederick  and  those  clerks  at  his 
father's  bank.     Really  he  looked  as  if  he  could  eat  them  all." 

"  Rather  an  indigestible  meal,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Funny  little  thing  you  are,  to  be  sure,  Lotty  !  I  don't  so 
much  wonder  now  that  the  Grand  Turk  fancied  you  instead  of 
Augusta,  you  are  so  amusing ;  though,  certainly,  to  my  taste, 
14 


158  MARGARET 

yon,  Angnsta,  are  far  the  handsomer,  and  yon  have  snch  a 
figiire  too  !  really  yon  can  carry  off  any  style  of  dress,  and  any 
nnmber  of  flounces  —  and  do  you  know,  my  dear,  they  are  get- 
ting to  nine  in  nnmber.  Unlucky  for  you,  Lotty,  as  1  don't  see 
how  you  could  wear  more  than  three." 

"  That  is  why  1  try  to  exi-^t  without  any,"  said  Lotty. 

"  You  certainly  du,  ami  always  did,  dress  in  a  pecidiar  style, 
that  no  one  else  could  bear,  I  fancy ;  but  it  quite  becomes  you, 
my  dear ;  and  little  and  childish  as  you  are,  Lotty,  you  have  a 
pretty  face.  But  I  must  go  and  see  after  Margaret.  A  tine 
thing,  indeed  !  dragging  us  down  all  the  way  from  London,  and 
then  shutting  herself  up  all  day  with  Sir  Harold." 

Flo.  seemed  to  have  been  as  successftd  in  probing  Si^  Harold 
and  Lady  Leigh's  weak  points,  as  she  had  been  in  liuding  out 
Augusta's  and  Carry's  ;  for  Harold  was  seen  passing  the  win- 
dows in  a  fiery  mood,  while  Margaret  joined  them  with  her  fair 
face  unusually  flushed. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

TLvROi.D  had  cause  to  be  vexed :  his  Margaret  had  not  sym- 
pathizeil  with  him  as  he  expected  on  Gerald's  account ;  besides, 
he  had  had  a  short  and  concise  letter  from  his  bankers  : 

"  Messrs.  Moneypenny's  compliments  to  Sir  Harold  Leigh, 
Bai't.,  and  beg  to  draw  his  attention  to  his  cash  account,  &c., 
&c." 

For  a  few  moments  he  gazed  on  the  items  mentioned  in  the 
letter  in  blank  dismay.  Tiien  the  first  pang  of  ruin  and  ])overty 
ruslu'd  through  Harold's  heart  ;  whiU;  the  large  ijuantity  ot'  re- 
pairs in  hand,  which,  if  pursued,  would  swell  those  horrible 
items  into  twice  the  amount,  ap{)all<'(l  him. 

He  rang  furiously  for  Mr.  Price,  who  arrived  iu  due  time. 

"  Look  there  !  "  said  Sir  Harold. 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  said  Price,  blandly,  and  rubbing  his 
hands  in  a  provokiiiirly  easy  manner. 

"  AN'hat  lilt!  devil  do  you  mean.  Price?" 

"  Of  course.  Sir  Harold,  1  expected  no  less.  I  am  only  sur- 
prised it  is  not  more." 

"  If  you  do  not  wish  to  drive  me  mad,  speak  out,  man,  and 
tell  lue  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  letter." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  159 

"  You  hav^e  overdrawn  your  accouut,  Sir  Harold." 

Mr.  Price,  the  account,  and  the  bankers,  were  all  sent,  one 
after  another,  to  a  very  hot  place  by  Sir  Harold ;  and  finding 
that  his  master  was  in  no  mood  to  be  trifled  with,  Mr.  Pi'ice  at 
last  condescended  to  speak  out. 

"  You  know,  Sir  Harold,  I  warned  you  not  to  take  so  much 
upon  you  at  once  ;  I  kept  advising  you  to  do  a  little  at  a  time  ; 
but  my  Lady,  you  see.  Sir  Harold,  my  Lady  would  go  among 
the  people,  and  she  got  your  ear,  Sir  Harold,  when  I  was  not 
permitted  to  speak,  old  and  valued  servant  as  I  have  been  to 

the  family "     Here  Mr.  Price  made  a  demonstration  of 

emotion. 

"  Hang  your  foolery,  man  !  come  at  once  to  the  point,  and 
let  me  know  how  I  am  to  get  out  of  this  mess." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Price,  maliciously  (for  he  was  a  rogue  now, 
though  he  might  not  have  been  one  Avhen  he  first  became  agent 
of  the  Leigh  estates),  "  perhaps.  Sir  Harold,  you  would  like  to 
consult  with  my  Lord  Ei'lscourt ;  his  opinion  has  ever " 

Harold  interrvipted  him  with  another  violent  exclamation, 
proving  to  Mr.  Price  that  his  shot  had  told. 

For  after  all  he  had  boasted,  and  still  was  boasting  to  Basil, 
how  was  he  to  tell  him  the  real  state  of  the  case  ?  —  more 
especially  as  Basil  had  told  him  the  same  thing  as  Mr.  Price, 
namely,  not  to  do  too  much  at  a  time. 

"  We  may  certainly  fell  a  little  more  timber,  and  there  is  the 
half  year's  rent  coming,  in  six  weeks,"  continued  Price. 

"  Three  thousand  five  hundred  pounds  !  What  a  drop  that  is 
to  liquidate  such  a  debt,  man,  and  we  to  live  too  !  "  said  Harold. 

"  If  you,  Sir  Harold,  could  persuade  my  Lady  to  reduce  the 
establishment  a  little." 

Mr.  Price  hated  "  my  Lady,"  and  he  knew  Harold  could 
not  bear  her  name  mentioned  by  him  ;  so  he  was  prepared  for 
another  burst  of  wrath,  and  then  a  dismissal  to  think  over  the 
matter.  This  all  took  place  after  breakfast ;  and  Margaret, 
knowing  the  lines  of  Harold's  face  as  the  lover  of  Nature  traces 
the  coming  storm,  was  appalled  as  she  entered  his  study  to  ask 
if  he  required  her  for  any  business.  He  sullenly  folded  up  the 
letter  ;  men  do  not  like  women  to  see  that  they  have  been  fool- 
ish or  unwise. 

"  That  idiot  Price  says  we  are  doing  too  many  repairs,  and 
shall  shortly  want  money." 

"  Have  you  not  the  fifteen  thousand  pounds  my  father  left, 
Harold?" 


IGO  MARGARET 

''  More  than  lialf  is  gone  ;  a  part  I  spent  in  tlie  first  payment 
for  our  yacht,  Margaret." 

"  O,  sell  it  again,  dear  Harold  !  "  said  Margaret,  quickly, 

"  Sell  the  yacht  !  give  up  the  thing  I  have  been  so  lull  of  all 
the  winter,  Margaret !  I  little  thought  you  Avould  be  so  unkind, 
unjust." 

"•  Not  unjust,  Harold  ;   our  people  " 

"  I  hate  the  people  !  Why  should  I  spend  my  money  on  a  lot 
of  ungrateful  rascals?  I  will  leave  them  all.  I  will  shut  up 
Court  Leigh,  and  we  will  go  to  the  Mediterranean,  Margaret, 
make  a  home  of  the  yacht,  and  living  in  those  lovely,  luxurious 
climes,  we  shall  be  free  from  all  trouble  and  care." 

"But  our  duty,  Harold?" 

Harold  sent  duly  off  after  Mr.  Price,  the  cash  account,  and 
the  bankers,  luaking  Margaret's  cheek  pale  with  the  first  scene 
of  violent  temper  that  he  had  displayed  before  her.  In  the  heat 
of  his  anger,  he  accused  her  of  selfishness,  cant,  hypoci'isy,  want 
of  love,  coalition  with  Gerald,  and  was  winding  up  Avith  a 
strong  bias  to  send  her  after  Duty,  when  the  door  opened  and 
the  amiable  face  of  Mrs.  Bankes  made  its  appearance. 

"  Hoity-toity  !  here's  a  scene  ! "  said  she,  highly  ])leased  at 
having  arrived  at  this  crisis  ;  "  who  would  have  thought.  Sir 
Harold,  that  you  shut  Margaret  up  here,  merely  to  favor  her 
with  a  matrimonial  exhibition  of  passion?  I  am  glad  to  see 
Margaret  has  enough  spirit  in  her  to  oppose  you,  as  1  suppose 
you  don't  get  into  rages  for  nothing.  I  always  thought  her  such 
a  meek-spirited  wife." 

"  Whatever  you  thf)Ught,  Mrs.  Bankes,"  said  Harold,  recover- 
ing himself  on  the  instant,  all  his  usual  high-bred  courtesy  in 
his  voice  and  manner,  "  Lady  Leigh  has  the  advantage  this  time 
of  being  in  the  right,  ami  I  have  to  apologize  to  you,  my  dear 
wife,  for  an  exhibition  of  temper,  which  1  trust  is  my  lirst  and 
last  before  you."  He  kissed  her  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  left  the 
room. 

"  Upon  my  word,  very  pretty  !  and  so  this  is  the  first  time  he 
ever  got  into  a  rage  with  you.  Well,  take  care  ;  tlii^  leap  ouco 
taken,  be  very  careful,  and  not  irritate  him  again.  I  am  a  very 
good  juilge  of  character,  and  these  Leighs  have  very  odd  tempers. 
J'ut  tliem  out,  my  dear,  and  they  are  mad,  raving.  How  thank- 
ful I  am  my  dearest  Frederick  has  such  a  sweet,  ieminine  dispo- 
sition !     Upon  my  word,  I  feel  for  you  and  Lotty,  indeed  I  do." 

Tills  was  said  at  the  drawing-room  door,  so  that  Lotty  heard 
it,  and  said, — 


AND   HER   BEIDESMAIDS.  161 

"  Why  are  Margaret  and  I  such  objects  of  pity?" 

"Ah!  my  dear,"  said  Flo.,  winking  violently  at  Margaret, 
"  little  pitchers  have  long  ears." 

"  I  consider  Mr.  Bankes  the  object  of  most  pity  in  the 
world,"  said  Augusta,  with  emphasis. 

"  To  be  sure,  my  dear,"  said  the  imperturbable  Flo.,  in  her 
most  irritating  manner ;  "  I  understand,  because  he  is  not 
blessed  with  your  lovely  hand.  Great  pity,  indeed,  that  he 
should  merely  choose  a  sweet,  amiable,  lively,  agreeable  wife, 
instead  of  such  a  charmer  as  you,  my  dear." 

"  So  that  is  your  estimate  of  yourself,  is  it,  Flo.  ?  "  said  Lotty, 
hastily,  to  prevent  an  explosion  of  wrath  from  the  angry  Augusta. 

"And  a  very  just  one,  too.  I  hold  that  person  to  be  a  fool 
who  has  not  a  tolerable  good  opinion  of  himself." 

"  Especially  when  they  think  of  nothing  else  than  themselves, 
they  ought  to  be  perfect  in  the  study,"  said  Augusta. 

"  Very  true,  my  dear  ;  besides,  if  one  has  not  a  good  opinion 
of  one's  self,  who  else  will,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  '  Who  else,'  Flo.  ?  what  grammar  !  "  said  Lotty,  trying  to 
turn  the  conversation. 

"  Grammar  or  not,  Lotty,  it  is  language  pretty  well  under- 
stood by  those  who  wovdd  rather  not  understand  it.  You  and  I 
never  indulged  in  any  flirtations  by  which  our  consciences  would 
be  harmed  ;  we  never  said  we  had  offers  when  we  had  not ;  we 
never  told " 

"  Florence,  we  are  not  at  school,"  interrupted  Margaret,  her 
lovely  face  assuming  such  a  reproving  and  severe  look,  that  even 
Florence  Avas  startled  ;  "  such  bickerings  were  disgraceful  then, 
how  much  more  so  now." 

She  left  the  room,  and  Augusta  followed  her. 

"  Well,  to  be  sure  !  my  Lady  Leigh  is  taking  enough  upon  her  ; 
she  forgets  I  am  a  married  woman  too.  I  have  a  good  mind  to 
tell  Fred,  of  her  conduct :  as  if  I  were  a  school-girl  still. 
I  think  I  will.  He  will  flare  up,  I  know,  and  tell  Sir  Harold  his 
mind  about  his  wife." 

"  Then  they  will  have  a  duel,  Flo.,  and  Sir  Harold  will  shoot 
Mr.  Bankes,"  said  Lotty. 

Flo.  was  for  a  moment  abashed,  but  presently  resumed  with 
renewed  vigor,  — 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear  ;  my  dearest  Fred,  may  shoot  him,  and 
serve  him  right,  too,  thinking  of  such  bloody-minded  revenge. 
And  your  husband  might  be  his  second  if  he   chose,  and  I'd 

have  Lord  Erlscourt  for  Fred.'s " 

14* 


1G2  '  MARGARET 

"And  Brian  and  Hugh  to  hold  the  pistols,  while  you  and  I  look 
on  to  see  fair  play." 

"  Come,  Lofty,  I  won't  have  you  treat  as  a  jest  what  is  a  very 
gerious  matter." 

"  O  !  I  thouglit  you  were  in  jest.  T  never  imagined  a  woman, 
possessed  of  a  dearest  Fred.,  could  coolly  sit  down  and  arrange  a 
duel  for  him,  just  because  Margaret  desired  to  have  Augusta's 
feelings  spared." 

"  To  be  sure,  my  dear,  who  could,  indeed?  "  said  Flo.,  rapidly 
turning  round  under  the  fear  of  being  laughed  at;  "•Augusta 
always  makes  such  mountains  out  of  nothing.  No  wonder  one 
does  not  know  which  is  the  head  and  Avliich  is  the  tail  of  what 
she  is  doing.  But,  poor  thing!  we  ouglit  to  pity  lier — she  is 
quite  soured.  I  am  sure,  if  1  am  thankful  for  anything,  it  is  that 
I  have  a  good  temper.  Nothing  puts  me  out.  1  declare,  here  is 
Lady  Katherine  marching  up  the  avenue,  like  an  old  swan,  with 
Miss  Leigh  two  stops  behind  her.  What  a  regular  old  nuiid  she 
is  !  getting  red  at  the  nose,  too.  Would  not  it  be  fun  to  get  hor 
into  a  flirtation?  Poor  old  thing  !  I  dare  say  she  does  not  know 
what  the  word  means.  I  think  I  will  give  her  a  little  advice  on 
the  matter.  I  am  fond  of  helping  on  affairs  like  that ;  and 
though  I  never  make  or  meddle,  a  little  word  often  excites 
a  flame." 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

MAnoAUET  knew,  in  spite  of  Harold's  control  over  himself, 
that,  as  long  as  the  matter  renuiiued  on  his  mind,  lie  would  talk 
of  it.  She  was  fully  persuaded  he  would  keep  his  promise,  and 
suffer  no  harsh  words  to  reach  her  ear,  as  if  for  herself,  l)ut  that 
he  must  disburden  his  vexation  by  talking  it  away  :  she  pre- 
pared herself;  and  it  needed  preparation,  for  the  scenes  that  she 
had  to  go  through.  To  combat  the  resolution  to  leave  home, 
people,  and  (!vorything,  tliat  he  niiglit  lead  a  (juii-t,  listless,  yet 
delicious  lil'e,  in  fairer,  warmer  climes,  she  knew  recpiiri-d  every 
exertion  on  her  part,  would  call  forth  every  power  of  love  and 
persuasion.  And  she  was  to  do  this;  she  who  felt  that,  with 
Harold,  a  cottage,  a  palace,  the  frozen  seas,  the  torrid  zone,  were 
ttlik(;  home  to  her. 

And  yet  his  immortal  welfare,  his  eternal  happiness,  required 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  163 

him  to  remember  that  he  lived  not  for  himself  alone.  He  must 
dwell  where  God  had  placed  him,  to  perform  his  allotted  task  of 
life. 

For  those  she  loved,  Margaret  was  unequalled  in  her  devotion 
and  firmness.  Again  and  again  Harold  argued  the  point ;  again 
and  again  Margaret  resisted  his  appeal.  It  is  true,  he  gave  her 
no  harsh  words  ;  it  is  true,  he  indulged  in  no  outward  passion ; 
but  it  burned  within  all  the  more  freely,  that  it  was  smothered 
outwardly,  until  one  evening  Margaret  suggested  that  they  should 
consult  Basil.  From  that  moment  Harold  shut  his  thoughts  up 
in  sullen  silence. 

Mrs.  Bankes  had  been  favoring  him  with  a  few  of  her  ideas 
upon  Lord  Erlscom-t's  evident  pleasure  in  Lady  Leigh's  society, 
which,  in  comparison  to  what  he  felt  in  hers,  certainly  could  bear 
no  investigation.  A  few  embellished  facts  of  their  former  friend- 
ship, a  few  imaginary  notions  which  she  felt  it  her  duty  to  tell 
Sir  Harold,  made  him,  in  his  present  mood,  forget  his  wife's 
devoted  love,  Basil's  noble  confidence. 

?tlrs.  Bankes  had  also,  with  the  zeal  and  energy  of  character 
on  which  she  prided  herself,  made  Mr.  Royston  see  that  his  wife 
was  a  greater  fool  than  he  had  first  imajjined  her :  and  beiu<T 
perfectly  satisfied  Avith  the  happy  result  produced  in  both  these 
cases,  she  looked  round  to  see  whose  condition  she  could 
further  improve. 

Fortunately  for  Lotty,  she  was  rather  afraid  of  Philip,  and 
determined,  in  her  own  mind,  to  leave  his  welfare  to  the  last ; 
so  she  took  Lotty  under  her  kind  protection,  associating  her  with 
the  perpetual  stings  that  she  was  inflicting  on  Augusta  through- 
out all  her  other  operations.  It  became  hard  to  say  which 
Augusta  hated  most.  That  she  nourished  in  her  heart  feelings 
of  bitter  hatred  and  envy  towards  Lotty,  has  been  seen  ;  and 
though  her  better  judgment  might  have  shown  her  that  Lotty 
had  nothing  to  do  with  Flo.'s  vulgar  impertinence,  still  she 
hated  on. 

Born  in  a  family  whose  principal  characteristics  consisted  of 
beauty  and  badness,  and  who  consequently  had  neither  any  love 
for  each  other,  nor  any  respectability  to  keep  up,  it  was  but  too 
true  that  Augusta  deserved  a  great  deal  of  the  censure  with 
which  Mrs.  Bankes  overwhelmed  her ;  bui  reproved  in  this 
coarse  manner,  brought  to  shame  by  a  woman  whom  she  des- 
pised for  her  vulgarity,  yet  feared  for  her  insufferable  assurance, 
every  bad  passion  in  Augusta's  heart  was  roused.  She  had 
come  down  with  the  firm  determination  to  mar  Lotty's  matrimo- 


s 


164  MARGARET 

nial  happiness,  no  matter  how  she  came  out  of  the  encounter 
herself",  so  that  her  purpose  was  fulfilled.  IJiit  it  required  very 
little  observation  lo  see  that  Philip,  morose  as  he  was  to  her, 
loved  his  little  child-wife  with  idolatry;  while  she,  Lotty,  the 
being  she  Avished  to  hurt,  injure,  overwhelm  with  grief  and 
despair,  would  probably  mourn  for  him  as  the  pitying  angels 
mourn  over  sinners,  but  at  the  same  time  would  rejoice  in  any 
act  that  restored  her  once  more  to  her  beloved  Beauvillians. 

Thus  Augusta  felt  she  was  powerless  ;  and  her  heart  grew 
sick  and  sad  within  her,  when  she  compared  herself  to  her  five 
school-fellows.  Not  that  she  cared  for,  or  envied,  Florence  and 
Caroline  ;  thank  TIraven  !  though  they  were  married,  she  did 
not  envy  them.  liut,  from  her  childhood,  this  one  idea  had 
been  placed  prominently  before  her  —  she  was  to  marry,  and 
that  as  early  as  possible. 

Her  father,  without  having  any  great  liking  for  doniestic  life, 
had  yet  been  severely  tried  in  his  endeavors  to  do  his  duty  in 
that  line  ;  for,  after  some  years  of  most  uncomfortable  eccen- 
tricity, his  wife  had  become  permanently  insane,  leaving  to  his 
care  and  management  three  wild  boys  and  one  pretty  girl.  As 
she  grew  up,  Augusta  discovered  that  she  was  only  held  in 
esteem  by  her  immediate  relatives  and  guardians,  according  to 
her  promise  of  beauty.  And  slic  had  nnl  tlu'  pleasiu'e  of  think- 
ing they  were  proud  of  and  delighted  in  her  appearance,  because 
she  was  their  daughter  and  sister,  but  because  a  female  relative 
was  a  very  tiresome  burden,  and  they  wanted  to  ease  their 
shoulders  of  the  care  as  soon  as  possible. 

Thus,  without  love  to  soften  her,  without  principles  to  guide 
her,  no  wonder  she  looked  to  marriage  as  the  only  possible  relief 
U)  an  unpleasant  and  somewhat  forlorn  situation. 

But  being  deficient  in  feminine  tact,  and  gentle  wiles,  she  had 
been  too  open  in  her  endeavors,  too  barefaced  to  escape  censure, 
besides  failing  in  her  object. 

Slie  would  have  hated  IMargaret,  had  it  been  possible,  for 
beguiling  Sir  Harold,  and  so  exposing  her  to  the  taunts  aud 
upbraidings  of  lier  I'ainilv. 

She  did  li.ite  Lotty,  because  she  felt,  had  she  gained  Philip 
Leigh,  she  would  liave  loved  him,  and  for  his  sake  have  become 
all  that  a  woman  should  ])e. 

She  felt  that  she  had  compromised  her  character  most  seri- 
ously, and,  her  father  being  dead,  she  iiad  but  her  wild  and 
dissipated  brothers  to  fall  back  upon,  whose  companionshij)  was 
much  eschewed  by  well-disposed  folk.     Thus  her  situation  was 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  165 

truly  deplorable,  and  it  required  no  stin,!2js  from  Mrs.  Bankes's 
flippant  tongue  to  make  it  worse.  Had  she  but  made  a  con- 
fidant of  Margaret  or  Millicent,  had  she  crushed  her  proud  and 
irritated  spirit,  there  might  have  been  some  hope.  But  at  pres- 
ent she  was  becoming  reckless  ;  and  knowing  that  when  she  left 
Court  Leigh,  she  woidd  have  but  a  rough  and  unkind  reception 
from  the  only  home  open  to  her,  she  was  determined  in  some 
Avay  to  set  a  seal  upon  her  fate. 

Yet  how? 

It  was  useless  remaining  much  longer  in  Cheshire.  Court 
Leio-h  was  unlike  the  Court  Leigh  of  the  former  visit,  A  ffloom 
hung  over  everything,  casting  its  foreboding  shadow  on  a 
doomed  house. 

Lord  Erlscourt  was  unmarried,  it  is  true,  but  experience  told 
her  "  'twere  vain  to  txy"  to  attract  him.  His  brothers  were  sucli 
complete  boys  ;  and  besides,  the  elegant  Miss  Clare  was  not  at 
all  to  their  taste  :  they  were  just  at  the  age  to  despise  flounces, 
feathers,  and  dress,  which  Miss  Clare  delighted  in.  Yet  where 
to  go?  Her  thoughts  rushed  for  a  second  towards  "  dear  Fred.'s 
red-haired  cousin,"  —  but  no,  that  was  too  humiliating  ;  and  the 
sound  of  Flo.'s  active  tongue,  making  itself  heard  through  the 
long  avenue,  above  the  rustling  of  the  leaves,  and  the  twittering 
of  the  birds,  gave  her  such  a  shock,  that  to  go  off  to  Australia 
with  a  gold-digger  seemed  preferable.  She  drew  near  to  the 
speakers  to  escape  her  thoughts. 

"My  dear  Lord  Erlscourt,"  Avas  Mrs.  Bankes  saying,  "how 
you  do  spoil  those  boys  !  Now  take  my  advice,  or  you  will  one 
day  repent  it  —  they  will  turn  upon  you." 

Basil  was  Iving  on  the  grass,  his  half-brothers  hanging  about 
him,  and  teasing  him  every  minute  with  questions  ;  in  fact,  they 
wanted  to  rouse  Basil  from  his  book,  that  he  might  come  Avith 
them  on  some  favorite  excursion. 

Basil  looked  lovingly  at  his  boys. 

"  There  is  always  ill  blood  between  half-brothers,"  pursued 
Mrs.  Bankes.  "  I  should  not  be  doing  my  duty  if  I  did  not 
warn  you,  my  Lord.  Remember  you  are  not  married,  and 
have  no  heirs.  It  will  be  a  fine  thing  for  one  of  them  to 
become   Lord  Erlscourt." 

"  He  will  make  a  very  fine  Lord  Erlscourt,  madam,"  said 
Basil,  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  Brian's  dark  curls. 

"I!  Lord  Erlscourt?"  said  Brian;  "never,  Basil;  Avhen 
you  die,  I  shall  die." 

"  So  shall  I,"  said  Hugh  ;  "  Ave  could  not  live  Avithout  you, 
brother." 


16G  MARGARET 

"  All  !  young  gentleman,  that's  all  very  fine.  Just  wait  till 
your  brother  has  a  family." 

"  He  has,"  said  Brian  ;  "  -we  all  live  with  him." 

"I  mean  married,  my  dear,  with  children  of  his  oAvn." 

"  I  am  not  '  your  dear,'  ma'am,"  retorted  Brian,  angrily  ; 
"  and  I  wish  Basil  was  married,  and  I  wish  he  had  married 
Mrs.  Leigh." 

"  And  may  I  ask,  young  man,"  said  Philip,  haughtily,  ''  why 
you  should  have  fixed  on  my  wife  for  such  an  honor?" 

"  Because  I  love  her,  and  so  does  Hugh  ;  and  we  think,  yes, 
we  both  think " 

"  And  Basil  thinks,"  interrupted  Lord  Krlscourt,  "  that  you 
are  a  couple  of  foolish  boys." 

"  I  insist  upon  hearing  what  lie  was  going  to  say  !  "  exclaimed 
Philij),  hotly. 

''01"  said  Brian,  nothing  loth,  "  we  think  she  is  a  great 
deal  too  good  for  yon.  If  we  had  Mrs.  Leigh  to  live  Avith  us, 
she  should  be  treated  as  a  queen,  which  she  deserves." 

Philip  stretched  out  his  hand  to  seize  the  boy,  livid  with 
rage.  The  active  fellows  were  up  and  away,  with  Philip  after 
them  ;  they  enjoying  the  fun,  he  in  a  towering  passion. 

''  AVell,"  said  Mrs.  Baiikes,  making  the  most  of  the  oppor- 
tunity of  having  Lord  Erlscourt  all  to  herself,  "your  l>oys  have 
served  him  right,  great  brute  !  always  snubbing  that  poor  little 
thing,  who  runs  her  legs  off  to  please  him." 

'•  .Slic  does  not  look  unhappy,  Mrs.  Bankes." 

"  No,  she  dare  not,  or  I  am  sure  he  would  beat  her.  Really, 
it  is  shocking  to  think  how  Margaret  and  Lotty  have  thrown 
themselves  away  on  those  mad  Leighs  !  " 

"  Mad  :  "  said  Basil. 

"  Yes,  mad,"  said  Mrs.  Bankes  ;  "  cannot  you  see  it  in  their 
eyes?" 

"But  there  is  no  madness  in  the  family,  madam." 

"  Why,  no,  I  suppose  not,"  said  jNIrs.  Bankes,  reluctantly  ; 
"  but  then  liow  can  you  account  for  Sir  Harold's  jealousy 
of  you  ?  " 

"Of  me,  Mrs.  Bankes?" 

"  Yes,  of  you  ;  any  mole  can  see  it." 

Mrs.  Bankes  was  rather  alarmed  at  Lord  Erlscourt's  raising 
himsell'  from  the  ground  at  one  spring,  and  preparing  tu  depart. 

"  AVhere  are  you  going?"  she  said. 

"  To  Sir  Harold " 

"  0,   mercy  me,   don't  I     You  will   have   a  cpiarrel  I      There 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  167 

will  be  a  duel !  They  will  trace  it  to  me  !  There  will  be  such 
a  scene  !  —  and  Fredei-ick  —  O,  my  dear  Frederick  !  —  he  will 
be  drawn  in.  O,  for  mercy's  sake,  my  Lord !  —  for  goodness 
gracious  sake,  don't !  " 

"  Then,  madam,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  if  you 
really  think  what  you  said,  that  Sir  Harold  Leigh  is  jealous  of 
me.  Lord  Erlscourt  ?  " 

"  I  never  heard  him  say — I  don't  quite  know  ;  but  Frederick 
and  I  were  saying " 

"  Madam,  if  you  cannot  say  yes  or  no,  I  shall  depart  to  seek 
Sir  Harold." 

"  O,  '  yes,'  then  I'll  say,  or  '  no,'  or  whatever  you  wish,"  said 
the  alarmed  Mrs.  Bankes. 

"  That  will  not  suit  me.  You  must  state  on  what  grounds 
your  information  is  founded." 

"  Well,  Frederick  and  I " 

"  Do  you  mean,  madam,  that  Mr.  Bankes  and  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  We  had  just  a  few  suspicions." 

"  And  have  you  heard  that  any  other  person  has  ?  " 

"  No,  never  ;  no,  not  a  word  !  It  was  only  Frederick  and  I 
talking." 

"  Then,  madam,  allow  me  to  say,  that  if  I  hear  such  a  thing 
again,  or  a  word  whispered,  or  any  thing  of  a  similar  kind,  in 
this  house,  said  by  you  or  Mr.  Bankes,  I  shall " 

"  He'll  duck  Mr.  Bankes  in  the  horsepond,"  interrupted  Brian, 
who,  with  Hugh,  had  returned  unperceived  from  their  race  with 
Philip. 

"  Yes,  and  then  horsewhip  him  with  his  best  hunting  whip," 
continued  Hugh. 

*•'  And  if  you  or  he  tease  Basil  any  more,  we'll  shoot  him ! " 
concluded  they,  in  a  breatli. 

"Hush,  boys!"  said  Basil;  "you  must  never  threaten  a 
lady." 

And  with  a  low  bow  to  the  discomfited  Mrs.  Bankes,  he  de- 
parted, bearing  both  the  boys  with  him. 

"  Well !  if  I  did  not  give  him  a  fine  fright,"  said  Mrs.  Bankes 
to  herself,  recovering  her  spirits  as  soon  as  they  departed  out 
of  sight.  "  Ah  !  here  is  that  good  little  thing,  Lotty.  Here's 
my  Lord  gone  off  at  a  tangent,  and  Mr.  Leigh  has  had  to  rush 
after  those  two  rude  boys,  to  give  them  a  good  flogging,  which  I 
am  sure  they  deserve  ;  more's  the  pity  they  did  not  get  it  — 
and  all  about  you,  too." 

"  I  dare  say  you  had  a  helping  hand  in  the  mischief,  Flo." 


168  MARGARET 

"  Ah  !  that  is  always  what  you  used  to  say  at  school,  Lotty  ; 
but  you  never  were  more  mistaken  in  any  one's  character  in 
your  life.  I  am  just  the  reverse  of  that  —  quiet  and  peaceable  ; 
I  never  make  nor  meddle." 

"■  I  will  hear  the  rest  of  your  character  when  I  return,"  said 
Lotty  ;  ''but,  at  present,  tell  me  whitli  way  did  Pliilip  go." 

"  .So  you  would  go  after  him,  would  you?  Take  my  advice 
now,  and  keep  out  of  the  way.  He  was  like  a  demon,  my  dear  ; 
his  leetli  set,  his  eyes  on  fire,  his  face  like  a  sheet,  always  a  sign 
of  intense  passion.  —  O!  she  is  gone,  and  the  right  way,  too. 
"Well,  if  she  will  g^,  she  will,  and  must  take  the  consequences. 
I  meant  to  have  shown  her  quite  the  contrary  direction,  if  she 
lu|d  persisted  in  asking  me  ;  but,  however,  I  have  done  }ny  duty, 
and  wlio  can  do  more?  She  is  a  very  odd  little  thing,  that 
Lotty.  I  am  not  sure  that  she  is  all  right,  there  is  such  a  child- 
isli  Avay  Avith  her.  Yet,  with  those  eyes  of  hers,  how  she  looks 
one  througli,  as  if  she  could  read  everything  one  was  thinking  of. 
However,  she  is  Avelcome  to  read  my  thoughts.  Thank  goodness  ! 
I  never  say  anything  that  I  don't  feel,  and  that  is  a  comfort 
everybody  cannot  boast  of." 

Tliis  wind-up  miglit  have  been  meant  for  Augusta's  ear,  who 
came  Avalking  slowly  by.  If  it  was,  it  fell  unlieeded  ;  she  passed 
tlie  amiable  ^Irs.  Baiikos  with  tlie  air  and  h)ok  of  a  person  Avho 
did  not  seem  to  know  there  was  sucli  a  being  in  the  world,  while 
the  latter  joined  Carry,  and  the  three  continued  to  walk  up  and 
down  tlie  avenue,  Augusta  passing  but  not  joining  them  as  they 
conversed. 

"AVell,  Carry,  they  are  queer  people  here,  are  they  not?  all 
at  sixes  and  sevens." 

"Yes,"  colli inued  Carry:  "it  is  very  sad  to  see  them  all  so 
occupied  Avith  their  own  concerns  :  they  never  look  at  the  baby." 

"  No,  to  be  sure  ;  they  have  eyes  for  nothing  but  themselves 
and  their  husbands.  And  such  husbands,  too,  —  perfect  brutes! 
lint  I  always  thought  Margaret  held  her  head  a  great  deal  too 
high  ;  and  ^lillicent,  with  all  her  goodness,  has  got  a  uice  un- 
comfortable lot  before  her.  I  would  not  change  my  dear  Fred, 
for  one  of  them." 

"  Nor  I  my  sweet  ba1)y." 

"  "Well,  you  might  pay  Mr.  Royston  the  compliment  of  think- 
ing of  him.  Carry,  for  he  lets  you  have  all  your  own  Avay." 

"Of  course,  I  Avould  not  chansre  him  i'm-  anv  of  them;  and, 
as  you  say,  Flo.,  they  seem  all  a  very  uuhappy  lot,  and  I  sup- 
pose it's  all  their  oavu  doing." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  169 

"  Of  course,"  returned  Flo.  "  If  they  had  acted  like  you  and 
me,  Carry,  their  fates  would  have  been  very  different  ;  and  that 
poor  little  iotty  is  Avorse  than  all.  I  declare,  when  I  look  at 
that  dark,  morose-looking  husband  of  hers,  I  fully  expect  to  hear 
some  day  that  he  has  cut  her  throat  and  shot  himself." 

"  Philip  Leigh  will  never  hurt  himself  for  any  woman,"  said 
Augusta,  haughtily,  as  she  caught  the  last  words,  walking  by 
them. 

"  I  must  say,  I  think  he  behaved  shamefully  to  you,"  said 
Flo. 

"  It  is  out  of  the  power  of  any  man  to  trouble  me,"  retorted 
Augusta. 

"  And  that's  the  right  way  to  treat  them.  As  I  often  tell 
Fred,  '  Ah  !  you  don't  know  the  annoyance,  and  trouble,  and 
bother  you  men  are.  Far  better  is  it  for  a  poor  woman  just  to 
have  no  one  to  care  for  her  but  herself.'  As  Carry  and  I  were 
just  saying,  look  at  those  three  imhappy  creatures,  Margaret, 
Millicent,  and  Lotty,  one  worse  otF  than  another.  I  am  sure  I 
am  thankful  I  am  what  I  am." 

"  And  so  am  I,"  said  Carry.  "  I  would  not  bo  either  of  them 
for  the  world." 

"  I  am  happy  in  thinking,"  returned  Augusta,  "  that  I  envy 
no  one ;  and  I  can  look  on  you  all  with  great  feelings  of  com- 
passion, not  to  say  thankfulness,  for  my  OAvn  lot." 

"  Hoity-toity !  "  exclaimed  Flo.,  as  soon  as  Augusta  had 
walked  oiF,  "  I  smell  sour  grapes  ;  and  no  wonder,  poor  soul ! 
She  will  come  to  grief  some  day,  I'll  be  bound.  There's  the 
dressing-bell ;  run.  Carry,  or  we  shall  never  be  in  time,  and  cer- 
tainly I  do  like  plenty  of  time  to  make  myself  tidy,  just  to  please 
Fred. ;  and  you'll  want  to  kiss  your  baby." 


CHAPTER     XLII. 

As  Lotty  passed  on  her  way  in  search  of  Philip,  she  overtook 
Basil  close  by  a  stile.  As  she  lightly  sprang  over  it,  he  held  the 
hand  which  he  had  taken  in  his  to  assist  her,  and  staying  her 
onward  step,  he  looked  into  her  face  with  his  loving,  brotherly 
eyes,  just  as  he  was  wont  to  do  when  he  lifted  up  the  pretty  face 
to  kiss. 

15 


170  MARGAROT. 

"Little  Lotty,  n  phaflow  in  your  eyes." 

"  But  not  in  yours,  Basil ;  at  what  "were  you  laughing  so 
heartily  to  yourselt"?  " 

"  At  the  uulbrtunate  Mrs.  Bankes,  Lotty ;  she  is  busying  her- 
self so  much  about  all  our  concerus,  that  a  little  more  and  she 
Avould  make  mischief.  Thinkiug  it  was  best  to  alarm  her  in  a 
style  she  could  understand,  1  was  proceeding  to  give  her  a  quiet, 
though  strong,  hint  as  to  the  danger  of  so  doing,  Avhen  the  boys 
interrupted  us  in  a  rampant  manner,  and  before  I  could  stop 
them,  threatened  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Bankes  with  a  horsepond, 
a  thrashing,  and  a  duel." 

"  I  should  think,  poor  man  !  he  will  be  off  to-morrow." 

"  Not  a  bad  tiling  either,  Lotty,  though  my  character  will 
suffer  through  the  boys  ;  for  by  the  time  Mrs.  Bankes  reaches 
London,  she  will  have  persuaded  herself  that  I  liad  not  only 
threatened,  but  actually  executed  my  threats,  even  though  her 
beloved  Frederick  is  unharmed  by  her  side." 

"  She  must  have  annoyed  you  very  much,  Basil,  before  you 
"would  even  give  her  a  strong  hint,  as  you  call  it." 

"  She  could  not  annoy  me,  Lotty  ;  but  she  may  do  infinite 
mischief  to  those  I  love,  and  therefore  I  was  not  so  vexed  as  I 
might  have  been  at  my  boys'  rudeness  ;  it  may  have  the  effect 
of  stopping  her.  But,  Lotty,  why  is  this  shadow  in  your  once 
clear  eyes  ?  " 

"  The  shadow  will  not  remain  long,  I  hope,  Basil." 

"  Why  did  you  marry  in  such  haste,  Lotty?  " 

*'  Anybody  will  tell  vou  the  reason,  if  you  wish  to  know, 
Basil." 

"  Did  you  not  see  the  sin  of  marrying  without  love,  little 
one?" 

"  I  think  it  was  a  sin,"  she  said,  calmly. 

He  looked  into  her  truthful  eyes. 

"  I  forgot  I  must  not  longer  treat  little  Lotty  as  my  pet  and 
child  ;  so  you  must  forgive  me  if  I  have  said  aught  you  do  not 
like." 

"  You  would  not  say  to  me,  Basil,  what  I  should  not  hear ; 
go  on,  if  there  is  anything  you  wish  to  know." 

"  If  you  want  a  brother,  nuiy  I  be  the  trusted  one?  not,  Lotty, 
because  you  have  not  loving  brothers  in  abundance,  but  they 
love  you  too  well,  you  understand.  I  sliould  be  alone,  but  the 
Beain  illians  you  must  consult  en  mansr." 

"  I  shall  want  no  help,  thank  you,  Basil,  all  the  same.  I  have 
but  to  do  my  duty." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  171 

He  lookecl  at  the  childish  face,  the  girl's  slight  form,  and  might 
have  wondered  ut  her  answer  ;  but  as  he  met  the  steadfast  gaze 
of  her  eyes,  and  noted  the  decision  and  fortitude  that  played 
round  her  mouth,  he  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it 
with  reverence. 

''  I  believe  it ;  may  you  have  your  reward." 

Lotty  pursued  her  way,  talking  to  Bear  as  she  went. 

"  Come,  Bear,  tind  Philip.  We  must  be  very  kind  to  him. 
He  has  been  put  out  by  our  friend  Flo.,  and  we  know  how 
aso-ravatiuu;  she  can  be.  Even  Basil  was  disturbed,  Bear,  so 
Flo.  must  have  been  very  naughty.  Ah  !  Bear,  some  of  these 
days  we  shall  all  be  happy  and  at  rest ;  but  this  is  a  sad  time, 
and  worse  is  coming.  ATe  must  wait  in  patience  and  hope, 
Bear,  preparing  for  sad  things,  but  doing  our  duty  in  everything, 
steadily,  and  in  a  good  spirit.  AVe  are  not  Carry  and  Flo.,  we 
are  Lotty  and  Bear,  willing  to  do  all  we  can.  So  you  know 
where  he  is,  Bear,  do  you  ?  —  up  the  dingle  ?  Then  let  us  make 
haste  ;  it  is  late.  Flo.  has  been  telling  Basil  tales,  which  is  very 
naughty.  But  you  are  right.  Bear ;  there  he  is,  lying  on  the 
grass." 

Lotty  approached  Philip,  and  sat  down  near  him  ;  he  was  pale 
as  death,  and  looked  as  if  he  had  been  suffering  intense  agony  ; 
his  hand  was  placed  on  his  side. 

"  What  do  you  here?"  at  last  he  said  hoarsely. 

"  I  came  for  you." 

He  replied  sullenly,  — 

"  I  am  going  home." 

"  Do  not  move  yet,  Philip,  you  may  bring  on  the  spasms 
again." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  have  had  spasms?" 

"  Because  your  lips  arc  blue  and  your  eyes  bloodshot." 

By  degrees  Philip  divulged  that,  in  the  race  after  the  two  Erie 
boys,  he  had  brought  on  palpitation  of  the  heart  by  over-exertion  ; 
he  said  nothing  to  Lotty  of  the  rage  he  had  been  in. 

'•  We  are  not  above  two  miles  from  High  Leigh ;  shall  I  go 
home  and  send  the  carriage  for  you  ?  " 

'•  No  !  "  he  said  ;  ''  we  return  to  Court  Leigh.  I  will  not  have 
it  said  that  those  unmannerly  boys  drove  me  away." 

"  They  leave  to-morrow  for  good." 

"  They  may  go  to  the  devil !  "  said  Philip,  gloomily. 

While  she  bathed  his  hot  forehead  with  the  cool  spring  water, 
and  his  heart  grew  calmer  under  the  touch  of  her  little  fingers, 
why  did  not  Philip  say  he  thanked  her  for  her  true  wife's  duty  ? 


172  MARGARET 

Ho  pondered  over  her  conduct,  it  is  tme,  and  at  last  said  to 
liimseir,  "  1  daro  say  .she  has  a  motive  for  thus  acting." 

Alter  a  time  Philip  and  Lotty  returned  slowly  home,  and  the 
dinner  party  at  Court  Leigh  passed  off  much  as  usual,  except 
that  Mrs.  Bankes  was  more  quiet,  and  glauoed  at  Lord  Erlscourt 
Avheu  she  indulged  in  any  ot"  her  favorite  remarks,  with  a  sort 
of  pleasing  hope  that  she  was  not  observed. 

Harold  was  extremely  gloomy  and  unsociable,  while  Basil  and 
his  two  boys  were  full  of  fun  and  merriment. 

Harold  looked  from  time  to  time  beneath  his  lowerinjr  brows, 
on  tlie  fine,  frank  countenance.  The  beautiful  blue  eyes,  so 
serious  in  a  calm  mood,  so  mirthful  in  a  happy  one,  returned 
Harold's  glances  with  true  brotherly  love,  and  might  probably 
have  had  a  due  effect  on  his  moody  temperament ;  but  Mr.  Her- 
bert was  announced,  and  though  he  came  but  to  request  Mar- 
garet's immediate  presence  at  the  Rectory,  Harold  cased  himself 
in  an  impenetrable  cloak  of  reserve  until  he  left.  Then  the 
sweet  influence  of  Margaret's  gentle  spirit  being  removed,  Har- 
old drank  deeply,  Mrs.  Bankes  talked  largely,  Augusta  flirted 
abominably,  Mrs.  Royston  spent  the  evening  with  her  child,  and 
Lotty  sat  by  Lady  Katherine,  with  the  two  Ei'le  boys  playing  at 
chess  under  her  surveillance. 

Basil  had  accompanied  Gerald  home. 

Lotty  was  absolutely  and  advisedly  perpetrating  a  great  act 
of  mischief  against  Lady  Katherine,  and,  worse  than  all,  making 
her  the  principal  actor  to  her  own  detriment. 

"  I  trust  jNIargaret  may  be  able  to  return  to-night  with  a 
pleasing  account  of  Mrs.  Herbert." 

"  I  hope  so.  Lady  Katherine  ;  but  I  suppose  you  are  aware 
that  if  all  is  safely  over,  Mr.  Herbert  means  still  to  take  his  wife 
to  Italy  lor  a  year." 

"  I  heard  something  of  that,  my  dear." 

"  It  Avill  be  better  to  take  her  there  before  the  winter,  rather 
than  she  shoidd  risk  her  precious  life  in  precarious  uncertainty 
here.  Though  the  doctor  said  she  might  quite  recover  after  her 
confinement,  still  Gerald  is  prepai^ed." 

"  Extremely  judicious,  my  dear  Lotty  ;  but  pray  with  whom 
does  lie  mean  to  intrust  his  parish?" 

"  That  is  just  the  point  upon  which  I  thought.  Lady  Kath- 
erine, you  could  advise.  None  of  us  would  like  a  total  stranger  ; 
so  I  have  betiiought  myself  of  a  very  nice  person  with  wiiom 
we  were  intimate  at  lieau-eourt,  and  who  was  once  curate  ia 
this  parish  before,  Mr.  Gray." 


AND   HEK   BRIDESMAIDS.  173 

"  My  dear,  I  remember  him  ;  a  very  pleasing  young  man." 

"  He  has  been  rector  for  some  time  of  a  small  living,  within 
ten  miles  of  Beau-court.  He  is  everywhere  loved  and  re- 
spected ;  and  the  people  here  still  remember  his  name  with 
gratitude  and  affection,  though  they  have  not  seen  him  for  ten 
years." 

"  Quite  the  gentleman,  I  remember  he  was,  my  dear.  By- 
the-by  !  yes  !  —  now  I  think  of  it  —  a-hem " 

Lady  Katherine  was  beginning  to  remember  too  much  ;  so 
Lotty,  like  a  true  match-maker,  threw  her  off  the  scent,  say- 
ing,— 

"  He  is  much  more  mild  and  gentle  in  his  doctrines  than 
Gerald ;  and  as  the  latter  does  not  intend  to  give  him  only  a 
curate's  salai-y,  but  wishes  him  to  have  house  and  tithes,  as  if 
he  were  rector,  he  will  come  among  us  in  a  very  different  light 
to  what  he  was  before." 

"  True,  very  true.  A  curate  is  a  curate,"  said  Lady  Kath- 
ei'ine,  "  and  a  rector  is  a  rectur.  Very  handsome  of  Mr.  Her- 
bert, indeed,  and,  as  you  say,  no  stranger  to  us." 

"  Tliat  will  be  so  agreeable  to  us  all,"  said  Lotty;  "he  will 
appear  like  an  old  friend." 

"  1  have  long  thought  you  very  sensible,  my  dear  Lotty  ;  and 
the  contrast  of  last  summer's  visit  to  this  one,  last  summer, 
when  all  your  kind,  amiable  relations  were  here,  makes  me  very 
sad.  I  feel  as  we  did  when  His  gracious  Majesty  was,  as  it 
were,  under  a  cloud." 

"  Ah  !  Brian,  take  care,  Hugh  will  checkmate  you,"  inter- 
rupted Lotty. 

"  He  may  do  it  as  often  as  he  likes,  provided  I  may  sit  by 
you,"  said  Brian,  stoutly. 

''  Such  a  contrast,  my  dear  Lotty,"  continued  Lady  Katherine. 
"  That  is  a  very  vulgar  young  woman,  Mrs.  Bankes ;  she  took 
it  upon  herself  to  give  me  some  advice." 

"  O !  she  is  always  advising,  that  woman,"  said  Hugh. 
*'  Don't  mind  her.  Lady  Katlierine,  for  she  is  a  fool." 

"1  do  not  go  quite  as  far  as 'you,  my  dear  Hugh." 

"  O  !  but  you  liad  far  belter,"  interrupted  Hugh,  "  for  she  is 
an  idiot." 

"An  idiot  !  pray,  who  is  an  idiot?"  said  the  object  of  their 
remarks,  who  Avas  never  two  miiuites  in  the  same  place. 

Hugh  got  very  red,  and  was  none  the  less  embarrassed  upon 
seeing  that  Lady  Katherine  was  dependent  upon  him  to  get  out 
of  the  scrape. 

15* 


17-4  MARGARET 

Brian  came  valiantly  to  the  rescue.  "  We  think  those  people 
idiots  who  meddle  iu  other  people's  matters." 

"  Very  true  indeed,  very  sensible  remark ;  that  is  what  I 
always  say  to  my  friends.  Lady  Kalherine  ;  and  if  any  one  was 
to  remark  how  shamefully  Augusta  is  flirting  with  Sir  Harold, 
I  should  say,  'Tray,  what  business  is  it  of  yours?'  I  should, 
indeed." 

'•  Maihim !  what  do  you  mean?"  said  the  astonished  Lady 
Kathorine. 

*'  0  !  it  is  as  plain  to  see  as  the  nose  on  one's  face,  what  she 
is  after.     Margaret  away,  too,  and  he  quite  foolish  from  wine." 

Ladv  Katherine  walked  in  a  stately  manner  across  to  where 
her  son  sat  ;  she  planted  herself  hrmly  and  decidedly  opposite 
Augusta.  The  latter  blushed  deeply,  and  drew  back,  while 
Harold  said,  — 

"  Don't  go,  Augusta,  don't  leave  me ;  tell  me  some  more 
about  those  countries." 

"  Sir  Harold  Leigh,  your  mother  sits  before  you,  and  she 
wishes  to  know  whom  you  call  Augusta?" 

Harold  had  suiricicul  sense  left  to  discern  that  his  mother  was 
much  disconcerted,  so  he  endeavored  to  command  himself. 

Not  being  accustomed  to  see  men  iu  such  a  state.  Lady  Kath- 
erine contented  herself  with  keeping  strict  watch  over  her  son, 
until  her  chair  was  announced,  without  being  aware  that  Mrs. 
Bankes's  remark  had  any  truth  iu  it.  She  departed  in  a  most 
stately  rustle  of  indignation,  determining  that  Court  Leigh  should 
be  cleared  of  such  company  on  tlie  morrow. 

Lotty  looked  at  Philip  after  Lady  Katherine's  departure,  as  if 
to  ask  his  assistance  in  persuading  Harold  to  retire,  and  that  the 
party  should  break  up. 

He  understood  her  look  without  showing  any  inclination  to 
oblige  her.  "  What  was  it  to  him  how  people  conducted  them- 
Belves?"  thus  said  that  dark  countcnanfe,  as  he  sat  in  hi-  quiet 
corner,  caring  for  none  but  the  little  cliild  iigure. 

Again  she  appealed  to  him  with  a  look  he  had  never  received 
from  her  before. 

He  grew  excited;  he  would  make  her  come  and  petition  for 
■what  she  wished,  her  dark  eyes  should  implore,  her  sweet  lips 
beseech  him  to  interfere.  He  knew  she  only  cared  thus  because 
it  was  her  ^largari't's  husband.  He  had  begun  to  feel,  that  only 
through  Margaret  could  he  disturb  the  sweet  content  her  face 
usually  wore. 

But  he  lost  sight  of  her  for  a  moment,  as  Mrs.  Bankes  placed 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  175 

herself  right  in  front  of  him,  to  favor  him  with  a  flowery  de- 
scription of  Lady  Katherine's  looks  and  Avords. 

Though  he  interrupted  the  interesting  story  Avithout  an  apol- 
ogy, and  left  Mrs.  Baukes,  not  even  muttering  an  excuse,  in  vain 
he  looked  round  the  room  —  Lotty  was  gone. 

"O  !"  said  his  tormentor,  "if  you  are  looking  for  Lotty,  of 
course  she  has  gone  to  bed,  and  high  time  too,  for  sucli  a  child 
as  that.  But  I  don't  intend  you  to  go  otf  after  her.  Let  the 
poor  httle  thing  have  her  first  sleep  over  before  you  come  in 
with  your  curtain  lecture." 

Mrs.  Bankes  was  getting  rampant,  Margaret,  Lord  Erlscourt, 
and  Lady  Kathcrine  all  driven  off  the  field,  and  Augusta  giving 
her  such  a  fine  subject  for  her  usual  conversation,  she  would  not 
lose  such  an  opportunity.  Mr.  Leigh  at  last  should  hear  her 
mind. 

She  rushed  into  a  vortex  of  mischief,  and  Avas  in  a  high  state 
of  happiness,  at  seeing  Philip's  countenance  becoming  darker 
and  more  morose,  when  the  door  opened  and  Lotty  appeared, 
accompanied  by  Margaret.  Her  disordered  curls  and  glowing 
cheeks  plaijily  proved  to  Philip  she  liad  been  doing  anything  but 
sleeping,  Avhile  Margaret,  Avith  serene  joy  and  happiness,  Avent 
up  to  Harold  and  said,  — 

"  Dear  Millicent  is  safe,  and  has  a  little  daughter  !  " 

"  I  care  nought  about  it,"  said  the  ungracious  husband. 

No  change  took  place  in  Margaret,  but  with  placid  manner 
she  continued,  — 

"  I  am  sure  you  must  all  be  tired,  so  I  Avill  ring  for  lights." 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

The  morroAV  was  a  day  of  events  and  consultations.  Of  the 
latter,  that  betAveen  Lady  Katherine  and  her  son  Avas  the  longest 
and  most  ineffectual,  and  the  one  between  Lotty  and  her  hus- 
band Avas  the  shortest  and  most  decisive. 

For  he  said,  "•  Lotty,  \ve  go  home  to-day  ;  "  and  she  ansAvered, 
"  Very  Avell,  Philip  ; "  and  they  Avent.  Not,  however,  before 
Lotty  had  her  full  share  of  most  of  the  other  consultations,  in- 
cluding a  long  dissertation  from  Mrs.  Royston  on  the  subject  of 
teething,  and  the  angelic  way  in  Avhich  her  baby  submitted  to 


176-  MARGARET. 

that  universal  plague  of  mankind.  Why  Providence  did  not 
ordain  tiiat  they  should  cut  tiieir  teeth  wiieu  they  <;rcw  up, 
formed  a  never  tailing  subject  ot"  discussion  and  wonder  on  the 
part  of  Mrs.  Roystou  ;  beginning  with  the  agonies  such  precious 
little  innocents  were  made  to  suffer,  tlie  torturing  suspense  of 
tender  parents  while  a  tootli  was  coming  through,  the  vast' 
auKiunt  of  bibs  and  pinafores  damped  during  the  process,  and 
the  expense  of  Mrs.  Somebody's  soothing  syrup,  to  say  nothing 
of  India-rubber  rings,  &c.,  &c. 

Mrs.  Bankes  was  for  taking  Augusta  roundly  to  task,  which 
she  did  ibr  tiie  brief  period  that  the  latter  allowed  her  to  speak. 

"  I  have  always  heard  that  you  were  celel)rated  for  going 
great  lengths,  Augusta,  but,  for  my  part,  I  would  never  believe 
it,  nor  more  would  Frederick,  until  we  saw  what  we  saw  last 
niglit.    Shametul  indeed  !  and  the  poor  man  quite  out  of  himself." 

"  1  have  not  now  to  inform  you,  Mrs.  IJankes,  that  the 
friendship  which  subsists  between  Sir  Harold  Leigli  and  myself 
is  warranted  by  our  long  actjuaintauce,  to  say  notliing  of  my 
having  l)een  originally  the  first  object  of  his  affections." 

''Fiddle-de-dee!  I  know  uuich  better  than  that;  and  be- 
sides, to  my  innocent  mind,  that  is  an  additional  reason  why  you 
should  be  more  circumspect.  If  you  nuist  flirt,  my  dear,  I  will 
lend  you  my  dear  Frederick  for  an  evening,  knowing  full  well 
that  the  darling  fellow  will  return  to  his  doting  wife  more  fondly 
than  ever :  but  to  fasten  yourself  to  the  side  of  a  man  who  did 
not  know  whether  he  was  talking  to  a  man  or  a  woman " 

"  Excuse  me,  .Sir  Harold  was  perfectly  awai'e  to  whom  he 
was  speaking,  which  I  only  mention  for  his  sake,  as  your 
remarks  about  myself  are — beneath  my  notice." 

'•  But  I  thiidv  it  my  duty  to  tell  you  what  we  all  think  of  von, 
don't  we,  Lotty  ?  " 

"  Which  it  is  useless  to  do,  Flo.,  if  she  does  not  think  so  her- 
self," said  Lotty. 

"  You  cannot  accuse  me  of  flirting  with  your  husbaml,  child," 
said  Augusta,  bitterly. 

''  You  are  welcome  to  do  so,"  replied  Lotty,  quietly. 

"  Ah  !  Lotty,  you  don't  know  what  I  know.  I  was  just  pick- 
ing a  flower  lierL^  and  there  in  the  garden,  and  seeing  twt;  people 
in  the  (tedai-  walk " 

"  Which  two  pcfjpU'  had  quite  as  much  right  to  walk  ihei-e  as 
you  or  I,  Flo.,"  interrni)ted  Lotty;  ''but  good-by  for  the 
present  —  I  must  run  over  to  the  Rectory,  to  inquire  after  Milli- 
cent." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  177 

Lotty  did  not  look  at  Augusta  as  she  left  the  room,  and  Mrs. 
Baukes  finished  her  exordium  to  the  chairs  and  tables. 

As  Lotty  and  Margaret  walked  back  together  from  the  Rec- 
tory, they  had  a  consultation  which  was  different  from  all  the 
others,  inasmuch  as  it  began  in  love  and  ended  so. 

"  My  Queen  Meg,  we  go  home  to-day." 

"  O,  my  Lotty  !  " 

"  Yes,  you  know  you  and  I  are  under  the  laws  of  the  Leighs  ; 
you  have  no  wish,  neither  have  I,  to  dispute  their  wills." 

"  Ah,  Lotty,  a  different  fate  is  before  me.  I  must  dispute  my 
Plarold's,  I,  who  could  live  only  to  please  him." 

"  But,  Margaret,  we  could  not  expect  Harold  to  be  good  all 
at  once,  especially  as  he  does  not  act  for  the  sake  of  goodness. 
Let  us  do  as  Hope  does." 

And  Lotty  repeated,  — 

"  Her  bark  upon  the  quicksands, 
Ten  thousand  floods  o'erwhelm  ; 
Hope  looked  above,  —  '  This  is  the  time 
For  God  to  take  the  helm.' " 

"But  should  my  resolution  fail,  Lotty?  " 

"  It  will  not,  Margaret,  because  it  has  Duty  for  its  father, 
and  Love  for  its  mother.     But  you  will  have  much  to  bear." 

"  I  fear  nothing,  so  that  my  Harold's  good  name  is  not  tar- 
ijished.  I  think,  Lotty,  I  could  bear  the  loss  of  his  love,  rather 
than  know  him  to  be  evil  thoutrht  of." 

"  And  yet  it  is  his  love  for  you  that  is  his  best  safeguard  at 
present.  Queen  Margaret.  Somehow  the  organs  of  veneration 
and  religion  have  been  doled  out  to  the  Leighs  in  scant  measure  : 
pray  God  we  may  live  to  see  that  mended,  Margaret,  then  avb 
need  fear  the  visits  of  Flos,  and  Augustas  as  little  as  Avhisks  of 
the  wind  or  flights  of  crowds  ;  but.  Queen  Margaret " 

"  My  Lotty  !  " 

"  I  live  near  you,  but  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  think 
me  far  off." 

"  Why?  my  dearest  Lotty  !  " 

"  Because,  because,  the  Leighs  are  rather  strange,  as  you 
know  ;  they  like  to  keep  their  own  property  to  themselves." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  Philip  will  prevent  your  coming  to  see 
me?  that  living  so  near  I  shall  not  have  your  dear  company, 
your  sweet,  wase  counsel,  your  loving  face  to  look  upon?  O 
Lotty !  he  never,  never  can  be  so  cruel." 

"  He  does  not  mean  to  be  cruel,  dear  Meg,  and  it  may  never 


178  MARGAKET. 

happen  ;  but  I  wish  you  to  be  prepared,  that  you  may  not  think 
your  Lotty  uukiud,  uuthouglitt'ul.  You  must  kuow,  Queen  Mar- 
garet, I  am  the  most  to  blame  —  1  committed  the  sin  of  marry- 
ing without  love  ;  thus  I  must  bear  my  lot  without  a  murmur  ; 
but  as  I  cauuot  .^ive  Philip  that  love  which  I  feel  in  my  heart  I 
could  give  to  a  husbaud,  1  must  be  the  more  scrupulous  in  doing 
luy  duty." 

"  Sweetest,  best  Lotty !  with  your  child's  face  and  man's  wis- 
dom, how  you  shame  me." 

'*  Then  you  are  prepared  for  Harold's  having  a  reaction,  are 
you,  Queen  Meg?  He  has  been  good  a  long  time,  and  in  the 
course  of  nature,  oue  must  expect  he  will  now  have  a  bad  turn, 
because  his  resululions  have  no  foundation.  Can  you  bear  all 
that  is  to  happen,  and  know  that  Lotty,  who  loves  you  more 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  is  sitting  at  home  and  not  hover- 
ing about  you  in  loving  help  and  sympathy  ?  " 

"  You  will  pray  for  me,  Lotty?  " 

"  Faitlifully,  as  I  hope  for  mercy  and  strength  myself.  Har- 
old, if  left  to  you  and  me,  we  flatter  ourselves  could  be  nuinaged  ; 
but  witli  that  rogue.  Price,  poor,  mistaken  Lady  Katherinc,  and 
that  uncompromising  Gerald,  he  will  be  driven  into  a  state  of 
distraction.     He  wants  money  too,  does  he  not?" 

'•  I  fear  so,"  said  Margaret. 

"  And  I  suppose  if  you  were  to  lessen  your  establishment  by 
one  half,  it  would  be  much  more  comfortable  ;  but  Lady  Kathi 
eriue  would  go  into  fits,  as  if  the  Leighs  were  born  with  less  of 
anus,  legs,  or  bi'aius,  than  other  mortals." 

"  It  is  quite  true,  Lotty ;  a  large  establishment  swallows  up 
money  in  so  great,  yet  so  unsatisfactory  a  way,  that  I  long  to 
live  in  a  cottage,  where,  Avaiting  on  my  Harold  myself,  love 
woidd  Ik;  the  only  wages  asked,  and  love  should  be  the  only  pay- 
master." 

'•If  it  were  not  for  Lady  Katherinc,  I  should  think  Harold 
would  soon  see  the  expediency  of  sudi  a  tiling." 

"  Harold  wishes  to  leave  Court  Leigh,  everything,  and  settle 
abroad." 

"  I  should  mucli  prefer  an  honorable  economy  at  home,"  said 
Lotty;  '"a  few  ill-niilur^'d  people  might  woudi!!-,  but  the  bless- 
ing of  it,  the  good,  the  example  —  besides,  I  should  imagine  it 
was  a  mistaken  notion,  that  of  living  cheaper  abroad  ;  a  person 
of  extravagant  habits  will  be  extravagant  in  Siberia.  —  But 
here  is  Basil,  and  the  two  boys  are  close  behind  ;  they  have 
come  to  bid  us  farewell,  I  suppose." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  179 

Basil  lingered  by  Margaret's  side,  as  if  lie  saw  traces  of  a 
hidden  grief  in  her  countenance,  Avhile  the  boys  uproariously 
lamented  to  Lotty  that  she  was  not  going  with  them. 

"  AVhy  should  you  stop  at  home  with  that  Philip  Leigh,  who 
never  speaks  a  word  to  you  ?  "  said  Brian. 

"And  we  would  never  leave  you  a  moment  alone,"  said  Hugh. 

"  That  would  be  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  Hugh,"  said 
Lotty. 

"  I  meant  you  should  never  be  dull  with  us,"  said  Hugh. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  am  dull  anywhere,"  returned  Lotty. 

"  No,  that  you  are  not ;  and  I  only  know,  if  I  were  king  of 
the  universe,  I  would  have  no  woman  born  who  is  not  like  you." 

"  Then  you  Avould  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing," 

"  We  could  never  have  too  much  of  you,  and  Basil  thinks  so 
too ;  and  though  we  are  going  a  voyage  in  the  '  Ripple,'  yet  we 
are  quite  sorrowful  to  leave  you." 

"And  I  am  in  sorrow  about  another  thing,"  said  Hugh.  "  I 
should  like  to  have  kicked  Mr.  Bankes  before  I  went." 

"  Why?  poor,  imfortunate,  meek  man  !  "  said  Lotty. 

"  Just  to  astonish  Mrs.  Bankes,"  returned  Hugh. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  such  bad  boys." 

"  We  are  not  very  bad  boys,  for  we  went  this  morning  and 
kissed  Milly's  baby,  which  nurse  said  showed  we  were  kind- 
hearted  boys  ;  but,  Mrs.  Leigh,  when  I  kissed  the  baby  I  said 
something  to  Hugh." 

"What  was  it?" 

"Shall  I  tell,  Hugh?" 

"  Yes,  you  may  as  well,  Brian,  because,  perhaps,  she  will," 
whispered  Hugh. 

"  I  said,  I  wished  I  might  kiss  you  instead  of  the  baby." 

"  Whenever  I  have  any  kisses  to  give,  you  two  shall  have 
them" 

"  Thank  you  !  when  do  you  think  that  will  happen  ?  "  said 
Hugh. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  say." 

"  But  you  are  always  kissing  Bear,"  said  Brian. 

"  Because  no  one  else  does." 

"  Then  no  one  shall  kiss  me  but  you,  if  you  will  treat  me 
the  same." 

"  Come,  come,  do  not  let  us  have  any  more  such  childish  non- 
sense," said  Lotty.  "  I  think  you  both  very  fine  boys,  and  I  like 
you  both  very  much,  and  that  you  can  believe  without  any 
saluting." 


180  MARGARET 

"Ah  !  "  saifl  Brian,  sorrowfiilly  ;  "  it  is  all  that  Philip." 

"What  is  all  this  sigliiag  and  gi'oauing  about,  eh?"  said 
Basil. 

''  Mrs.  Leigh  will  not  give  us  each  a  kiss,  now  that  we  are  go- 
ing away,  and  may  be  drowned  or  shipwrecked." 

"  You  impudent  boys  !  how  could  you  think  of  making  such  a 
request  to  Mrs.  Leigh?  Mrs.  Bankes,  or  Miss  Clare,  now " 

"  Ha,  ha  !  brother,  we  will  give  you  all  our  share,  should  such 
ever  fall  to  our  lot ;  but  we  will  keep  Mrs.  Leigh's." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Basil,  "  the  man  Avho  has  a  right  to  salute 
Mrs.  Leigh's  cheek,  knows  his  happiness,  and  values  it  too  well 
to  share  it." 

"  You  are  one  more  foolish  than  another,"  pouted  Lotty. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

Philip  Leigh  returned  home.  "  Now  I  shall  begin  serious- 
ly," said  he  to  himself,  "  to  work  ray  will." 

Lotty  was  always  in  the  habit  of  rising  with  the  sun.  The 
fresh  beauty  of  the  young  day  was  like  life  to  her  frame,  the 
deep  stillness  of  the  yet  sleeping  earth  raised  her  soul  to  the  con- 
fines of  Heaven,  from  whence  came  the  roseate  harbingers  of  the 
sun. 

This  time  was  to  Lotty  what  happy  dreams  arc  to  the  sick  and 
weary.  8he  gathered  in  fresh  spirit  and  resolution  lor  the  duties 
of  the  day,  as  the  Israelites  of  old  gathered  their  manna. 

Many  a  kind  action,  many  a  timely  visit,  did  Lotty  i)ay  during 
these  early  hours,  making  the  poor  people  think  that  one  of  the 
ministering  angels,  that  watch  and  guard  the  dwellings  of  men  at 
night,  had  forgotten  to  seek  her  place  in  Heaven,  when  day 
revealed  the  secrets  of  earth. 

And  she  would  appear  at  breakfast,  her  clear  skin  glowing 
with  the  pink  hue  of  the  pearl  shell,  her  eyes  like  glittering  dew- 
drops,  her  whole  appearance  so  fresh  and  fragrant,  that  Philip 
felt,  as  she  sat  opposite  his  dark  moody  countenance,  that  she 
would  deem  herself  more  unmatched  with  him  than  ever.  So 
he  forbade  the  early  excursions. 

In  vain  Bear's  impatient  whine  was  heard,  now  at  the  door, 
now  below  the  window,  now  at  the  gate  ;  his  lazy  little  mistress 
was  in  bed. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  181 

In  perceiving  that  this  prohibition  really  had  an  effect  upon 
Lotty's  gpirits,  Philip  lost  sight  of  the  clanger  to  her  health.  8he 
had  said,  in  her  usual  quiet  manner,  '•  Very  well,  Philip." 

And  while  he  rejoiced  that  it  seemed  to  tame  her,  or  rather 
subdue  her,  he  did  not  know  that  he  was  depriving  her  of  life. 

Lotty  grew  pale,  then  languid  ;  then  she  lay,  when  not  wanted 
by  Philip,  on  the  grass,  on  a  sofa,  anywhere,  so  that  it  was 
recumbent.  Bear  was  without  doubt  a  miserable  dog  ;  and  while 
no  Avord  escaped  Lotty's  lips  of  either  complaint  or  remonstrance, 
Bear  expressed,  in  canine  language,  that  he  was  on  the  verge  of 
distraction.  How  long  Philip,  in  his  blind  selfishness,  might 
have  continued  the  experiment,  cannot  be  known.  But  Lotty's 
nurse  interfered. 

Having  been  born  and  bred  among  the  Beauvillians,  it  never 
entered  her  innocent  and  unsuspecting  heart  that  there  lived 
people  who  not  only  could,  and  did,  torment  their  fellow-crea- 
tures, but  who  plagued  those  they  loved  best. 

She  concluded  that  this  new  arrangement  proceeded  from  a 
•whim  of  her  nursling's  ;  and  finding  all  her  private  remon- 
strances to  her  (as  well  they  might  be)  unavailing,  she  thought  it 
but  right  to  appeal  to  Mr.  Leigh  herself. 

"  Yes  !  Mr.  Leigh,  but  she  is  the  pet  of  the  world,  for  all  she 
is  so  wilful.  If  you  don't  lay  the  law  of  a  husband  on  her,  she 
will  slip  through  our  fingers." 

"  Of  whom  are  you  speaking,  my  good  woman?" 

"  Of  Miss  Lotty,  sir,"  said  nurse,  angrily,  and  advisedly 
oblivious  of  her  married  condition.  "  Don't  you  see  how  ill 
she  is?" 

"  I  have  noticed  she  looks  a  little  pale  lately,  but  thought  it 
was  the  heat." 

"It  is  no  such  thing,  Mr.  Leigh,  it  is  all  her  own  fault,  for  not 
getting  in  the  fresh  air  of  a  morning  ;  all  the  Beauvilliers  family 
are  the  same.  The  fresh  morning  air  is  meat,  and  drink,  and  life 
to  them.  And  look  at  the  change  in  only  a  fortniglit  come 
Tuesday." 

"  Pooh  —  pooh  !  "  said  Philip,  "  old  nurses'  tales." 

"  Old  nurses'  tales,  indeed  !  then  just  call  her  to  come  to  you, 
from  under  that  tree  where  she  is  now  lying.  If  she  comes  to 
you  with  the  step  she  had  ten  days  ago,  I  never  nursed  her." 

''  Pooh  — pooh  !  "  safd  Philip  again  ;  but  he  called  her. 

bhe  looked  round,  as  if  she  only  half  heard  him. 

"Ay  !  ay  !  she  would  have  been  by  your  side  ere  this  ten  days 
ago,    said  nurse. 

16 


182  MARGARET 

He  called  again,  quicker  and  sharper  in  tone,  for  he  really 
feared. 

81ie  rose  lia?tily,  and  seemed  as  if  about  to  run,  but  her  step 
faltered ;  she  held  out  her  arms  as  if  to  catch  something ;  and 
feeling  the  faithful,  loving  Bear,  she  clasped  him  close,  half-sink- 
ing on  the  ground.  Philip  fle\v  to  her,  the  nurse  following. 
"\V4tli  halt-closed  eyes,  and  white,  parted  lips,  lay  that  loveliest, 
fairest  thing. 

"  She  has  fainted,"  said  the  nurse.  "  Don't  touch  her,"  as 
Philip  Avildly  tried  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms  ;  "  the  dog  will  do 
you  a  mischief.  I  Avill  get  some  water ;  see,  she  is  better 
already.  Here,  fan  her  Avitli  her  hat,  but  do  not  unclasp  her 
hands  from  the  dog's  neck,  for  your  life.  I  know  how  he  took 
on  when  she  was  so  ill,  after  her  father's  death." 

As  Philip  looked  at  the  innocent  victim  of  his  selfish  caprice, 
he  could  have  sworn  her  a  lifetime  of  devotion  and  love,  so  that 
she  would  but  look  at  him  once.  It  seemed  as  if,  even  in  a 
fainting  fit,  Lotty  must  obey  his  wishes,  for  she  opened  her  eyes 
and  looked  at  him.  He  poured  out  upon  her  the  fondest,  ten- 
derest  Avoi-ds. 

At  last  she  said,  — 

"  I  rose  too  quickly,  Philip  ;  it  made  me  giddy." 

"But  why  are  you  thus  weak  and  ill?  —  O  Lotty!  my 
Lottv  !  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  Philip  ;  but  perhaps  I  am  going  to  die." 

"  Die  !  Lotty  ;  die  !  ah,  Lottv  !  " 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  should,  Philip"." 

"  O  Lotty !  talk  not  thus ;  you  agonize  me.  Death  can 
never  touch  one  so  fair  as  you." 

"  I  shall  go  to  my  fatiier,  Philip,"  said  Lotty,  quickly,  and 
"witli  a  faint  smile. 

I'liilip's  heart  beat  witli  a  strange  fluttering  sensation  he  had 
felt  twice  before.  He  put  his  baud  to  his  side  —  his  lips  became 
blue. 

She  would  prefer  death  to  living  with  him.  That  was  all  he 
had  gained  by  his  late  experiment. 

"  Nurse,  give  Philip  some  water  first ;  see,  his  heart  beats  so, 
and  that  miprht  bring  on  spasms." 

Lotty  was  never  again  Ibrbidden  to  seek  the  heaven's  nutri- 
ment her  peculiar  frame  i-ecpiired.  She  got  as  rapidly  strong 
again  as  she  had  become  ill. 

Philip  wont  to  consult  a  doctor  about  his  heart  ;  who  told  him 
there  was  no  disease  at  present,  but   lie  must  avoid  all   violent 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  183 

amotions,  to  prevent  any  return  of  spasms.  And  this  advice 
was  given  to  a  man  who  never  gave  his  heart  a  moment's  peace 
or  holy  calm. 


CHAPTER    XLV. 

While  Philip  was  enacting  the  part  of  a  tender  and  judicious 
husband  at  High  Leigh,  Huiold  v,  as  keeping  up  the  same  char- 
acter at  Court  Leigh. 

Their  visitors  had  departed.  Mrs.  Bankes  having  declared, 
in  a  private  consultation  with  her  husband,  that  they  had  all 
become  moi-e  stupid  than  owls  now  that  Lotty  was  gone,  made 
her  dear  Frederick  declare  that  urgent  business  called  him  to 
London. 

Mrs.  Royston  was  beginning  to  think  that  the  air  of  Cheshire 
did  not  suit  the  operation  of  teething ;  besides,  the  Leighs  lived 
five  miles  from  the  nearest  medical  man  —  a  fact  that  had  kept 
poor  Mrs.  Royston  in  a  perpetual  state  of  alarm  —  and  many 
times  had  the  unwilling  young  'Squire  to  go  the  lastjhing  at 
night  to  the  stables,  to  desire  a  man  and  horse  to  be  kept  iu 
readiness,  at  a  moment's  notice,  in  consequence  of  some  unusual 
symptoms  of  uncomfortableness  on  the  part  of  young  Master 
Royston. 

"  Though,"  as  Carry  declared  to  her  husband,  "  it  was  only 
one  word  for  their  baby  and  two  for  Margaret's,  who,  she  was 
certain,  Avould  have  a  lit  that  night,  it  looked  so  remarkably  re- 
dundant in  health  and  spirits." 

Augusta  still  remained,  but  she  was  only  waiting  an  escort  to 
Loudon.  Tlie  same  train  could  not  have  held  her  and  Mrs. 
Bankes  without  an  explosion ;  or,  as  Mr.  Bankes  elegantly  ex- 
pressed it,  "  their  coming  to  bats."  Harold  seemed,  after  his 
steady  pursuit  of  active  and  Avorthy  habits,  to  have  become,  all 
at  once,  an  exaggerated  edition  of  his  former  self.  Iu  vain  the 
devoted  Margaret  tried  every  winning  way,  made  use  of  every 
wife-like  art,  to  subdue  his  morose,  unkind  mood.  Brooding 
over  his  want  of  money,  and  the  dilemma  he  had  placed  himself 
in  by  commencing  so  vigorously  the  repair  of  his  estate,  Avithout 
counting  the  cost,  he,  like  many  men  before  him,  laid  the  blame 
of  his  present  unfortunate  condition  on  another.  And  that 
other  was  his  wife. 


184  MARGARET 

Margaret  had  been  the  originator,  the  instigator,  the  adviser, 
the  eucrourager  of  it  all.  And  Margaret  -vvourd  not  listen  to  his 
■wishes  to  give  all  up.  and  go  ^vitll  him  to  any  other  fountry  than 
that  which  coutaiiad  Court  Leigh.  And  this  was  that  .«anie 
Margaret  who,  early  in  their  married  lile,  deprecated  his  depart- 
ure from  her  side  but  an  hour,  even  for  what  he  deemed  neces- 
sary ;  who  had  thought  that  the  Avorld,  including  their  teuants 
and  people  in  particular,  might  dissolve  into  emptiness  and 
vapor,  sooner  than  that  her  Harold  should  be  annoyed.  It 
needed  no  poisonous  whisperer  by  his  side  to  make  Margaret 
appear  at  this  time  a  stumbhug-block  in  the  Avay  of  his  happi- 
ness and  content. 

In  the  heat  of  some  of  his  arguments,  he  had  told  her  of  hia 
banker's  account.  "  Sell  some  outlying  estate  to  clear  the  rest," 
said  ^Margaret. 

It  was  all  entailed. 

"  Let  us  reduce  our  establishment,"  she  suggested.  But  in  this 
plan  she  met  with  most  strenuous  opposition  trom  Lady  Kather- 
ine.  This  stern  but  amiable  old  lady  had  deemed  it  no  more 
than  her  bouuden  duty  to  keep  Avard  and  watch  all  day  long 
while  Augusta  remained  at  Court  Leigh  ;  and  as  she  imagined 
that  nothing  was  ever  done  or  said  tluit  she  ought  not  to  ha\e  a 
voice  in  the  matter,  she  had  arrived  at  a  much  greater  knoA\l- 
edge  of  her  sou's  affairs  than  he  ever  intended  she  should.  But 
he  was  not  ill-pleased  when  he  found  she  sided  with  him  against 
his  Avife,  in  the  matter  of  reducing  their  establishment. 

"  Court  Leigh  had  ever  been  kept  up  in  a  style  that  no  family 
in  Cheshire  could  exceed,"  said  she. 

'•  But  there  is  no  reason  Avhy  avc  should  do  so,  dear  Lady 
Katherine,"  pleaded  Margaret.  "  Such  state  as  avc  keep  does 
not  add  to  our  happiness,  but  rather  increases  our  cares." 

"  It  should  never  be  rei)ortcd  in  the  country  that  the  Leighs 
djd  such  a  thing;  it  Avould  be  my  deathblow,"  said  Lady 
Katherine. 

"  ^'^v,"  ansAverod  SAvect  ^Margaret,  "  Avhat  is  the  country  to 
US,  if  we  are  in  (lcl)l?  Every  year  Avill  but  add  to  our  dillicul- 
ties,  until  the  end  Avill  be  Avorsc  than  Avhat  Ave  fear  now." 

"  For  my  part  I  caimot  conceive  hoAv  such  a  state  of  things 
has  occurred,"  said  Lady  Katherine.  "  Price  must  have  been 
grossly  deficient  in  his  duties  towards  you,  my  dear  son,  and  I 
can  only  advise  you  to  make  him  refund." 

'•  lie  says  I  am  in  debt  to  him  live  thousand  pounds,  mother," 
Buid  Iluroid 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  185 

«'  Monstrous  !"  said  his  mother,  "  quite  monstrous  !  I  Avould 
have  him  taken  up  and  put  into  gaol  until  he  confessed  the  whole 
matter." 

Lady  Katherine's  advice  and  ideas  upon  the  subject  by  no 
means  tended  to  lighten  it  in  any  way.  No  child  could  be  more 
ignorant  of  the  real  case,  and  no  queen  more  resolute  to  keep 
her  state  and  crown,  though  it  was  clear  to  others  slie  had 
neither. 

Margaret  grew  pale  and  sorrowful,  but  the  soft  eyes  never 
varied  in  their  look  of  devoted  love  ;  the  sweet  lips  could  utter 
no  Avords  but  endearing  persuasions  to  act  with  firm  and  upright 
decision.  And  she  was  alone  in  her  thorny  path  ;  no  Basil  to 
encourage  the  wayward  Harold ;  no  Millicent  to  bid  her  work 
on  in  faith  and  hope  ;  no  sweet  Lotty  to  soothe,  encourage,  and 
point  out  some  happy  mediimi  path. 

Margaret  sat  in  her  garden  by  the  newly-made  grave  of 
Harold's  favorite  —  that  petted  and  beloved  horse,  which  had, 
by  its  traits  of  instinct  and  ati'ection,  first  Avon  for  Harold  the 
glance  of  the  eyes  and  interest  in  the  heart  of  the  sweetest,  gen- 
tlest being  on  earth.  Tlie  horse  had  died  from  inflammation, 
caused  by  beuig  overridden.  His  death  Avas  sufiicient  grief  to 
Harold,  Avithout  being  told  by  Mr.  Herbert  that  his  own  pas- 
sionate mood  had  prompted  the  mad  gallop,  his  own  temper  had 
inflicted  this  fresh  grief. 

Harold  had  shut  himself  up,  after  a  series  of  insulting  epithets 
poured  upon  Gerald,  that  made  the  latter  mourn  over  the 
Avretched  change,  and  had  not  been  seen  since. 

Marsraret  had  desired  the  servants  to  burv  the  favorite  in  the 
sweetest  spot  of  her  gai'den  ;  and,  Avheu  the  last  sod  Avas  placed 
over  him,  she  came  in  lonely  silence  to  ask  God,  from  her  heart, 
to  spare  her  this  bitter  cup.  So  pure,  so  devoted  Avas  her  love 
for  Plarold,  that  she  asked  for  no  return  of  his  love  to  her,  but 
that  he  should  perform  his  duty  to  God  and  his  people.  Any- 
thing she  could  bear  towards  herself,  so  that  he  Avas  irreproach- 
able in  character  and  name. 

She  felt  arms  thrown  round  her,  and  sweet  kisses  given  her. 

'■■  My  Lotty  !  " 

"  Queen  Margaret,  hoAV  ill  you  look  !  " 

"  And  you  also,  Lotty.  It  is  three  Aveeks  since  I  have  seen 
you — O,  my  sweet  Lotty!"  And  Margaret  wept  uncontrol- 
lable tears. 

"  Dear  Meg !  Aveep  on,  it  Avill  relieve  you.  I  knoAv  my 
school-wife  has  been  very  unhappy,  and  you  knoAV  you  can 
16  * 


186  MARGARET 

pour  out  your  sorrows  to  your  little  school-husband  without 
lear." 

No,  not  even  to  that  little,  faithful  school-husband  could  the 
loyal  Avifc  utter  one  word  against  Harold. 

"  I  feel  low  and  out  of  spirits,  Lotty." 

""When  does  Harold  go?  I  hear  he  intends  trying  'The 
Marguerite '  this  summer." 

''  lie  leaves  on  Mouday,  after  the  rent-day ;  but  he  will  not 
take  a  long  excursion  this  year." 

"  Do  you  go  witli  him?  " 

"  No,  dear  ;  it  is  deemed  uuAvise  for  me  to  do  so,  because,  you 
know,  sweet  Lotty,  your  little  goddaughter  is  coming  soon." 

"  How  unlucky  that  you  should  have  all  this  to  undergo  at 
such  a  time  ;  and  I  —  ah  !  Queen  Margaret,  I  have  but  come  to 
say  farewell  I  " 

'"How,  Lotty?" 

"  Philip  is  going  abroad." 

"  "When,  and  for  how  long,  and  where,  dearest  Lotty?" 

"  I  know  nothing  more  than  that  we  go  to-morrow  ;  where, 
or  for  how  long,  I  am  ignorant.  But  you  will  have  Milly,  dar- 
ling Meg,"  continued  Lotty,  her  owu  tears  falling  as  she  saw 
Margaret's  despair. 

"  Lotty,  where  you  are  there  always  seems  to  me  less  of  sin 
and  the  world's  deceit.  Though  I  have  seen  so  little  of  you 
lately,  it  was  pleasant  to  think  I  had  but  to  send  for  you  —  it 
Avas  more  than  pleasant,  it  was  my  best  worldly  comfort.  ^^  ell, 
if  more  nmst  be  borne,  God  grant  me  strength  to  bear  it !  As 
you  say,  I  shall  have  dear  ]Milly  ;  and,  Lotty,  she  is  recovering 
•wonderfully;  Dr.  Murray  has  scarcely  any  fears.  But,  Lotty, 
my  sweetest,  dearest  Lotty,  my  cai-es  arc  doubled.  AVheu  you 
go,  it  seems  as  if  some  goodness  left  me." 

"  AVell,  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  be  so  missed,"  said  Lotty, 
with  an  attempt  at  choerfidness  ;  "  so  now  come  with  me,  to  bid 
Lady  Katheriue  and  Pru.  farewell,  and  the  dear  Milly.  "When 
I  am  away,  I  shall  be  writing  forever,  and  have  a  great  deal  to 
tell  yoii.  And  as  I  may  go  to  some  \mknown  scenes  and  places, 
you  may  amuse  yourself  Avith  publishing  my  interesting  and 
original  documents,  and  saving  up  any  emolument  that  you  may 
gain  thereby  ior  my  goddaughter."  Thus  JvOtty  chalted  on, 
ami  no  our.  would  have  believetl  that  the  little,  lively  thing  bore 
Avithin  her  a  heart  that  ached  more  than  all. 

Lotty  knew  Philip  Leigh  had  a  purpose  in  this  sudden  ar- 
rangement, and  in  taking  her  from  England,  her  friends,  her 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  187 

companions  —  not  even  permitting  her  nurse  to  go  with  her,  in 
giving  her  no  clew  to  his  plans,  no  explanation  of  his  intentions, 
she  defined  that  her  fortitude  and  patience  were  to  be  put  to 
some  severe  test  —  some  extraordinary  trials.  To  her  tender, 
levins  nature,  the  leaving  Margaret  was  sufficient  to  almost  tear 
her  heart  in  sunder. 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

Though  Philip  had  given  Lotty  but  tAventy-four  hours'  notice, 
dui'ino:  which  time  she  had  to  make  her  leave-taking  visits,  and 
to  reconcile  her  dear  old  nurse  to  her  absence  —  a  very  difficult 
task,  and  not  completed  either  —  she  and  Bear  were  ready  at 
the  appointed  hour. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  be  troubled  Avith  that  dog." 

For  a  moment  Lotty  turned  white.  Then  recovering  on  the 
instant,  she  kissed  him  between  the  eyes,  and  sprang  into  the 
carriage. 

They  were  to  go  to  Liverpool,  eighteen  miles,  in  their  own 
carriage. 

Whether  in  that  last  kiss  Lotty  had  given  Bear  any  private 
instructions,  could  not  be  ascertained ;  but  on  arriving  at  the 
hotel  which  they  usually  frequented,  the  first  object  that  greeted 
their  sight  was  Bear. 

And  Lotty  seemed  in  no  degree  surprised.  Philip  waited  until 
they  Avere  in  the  sitting-room,  and  then,  in  a  loud  and  angry 
voice,  he  SAvore  he  Avould  send  the  dog  back.  Bear  growled  as 
he  heard  the  angry  tones. 

Philip  struck  him  sharply  Avith  a  riding-Avhip. 

Instantly  the  dog  sprang  up,  Avith  a  hoAvl  of  rage,  but  not 
quicker  than  Lotty,  Avho,  placing  herself  in  front  of  her  husband, 
receiA'ed  the  huge  form  of  Bear  on  her  slight  figure,  every  bristle 
raised,  his  eyes  of  a  glaring  red. 

Philip  shuddered  as  he  saw  those  sharp,  glistening  fangs 
Avithiu  an  inch  of  the  small,  Avhite  throat,  and  knew  that,  Avhen 
blinded  with  rage,  such  bloodhounds  as  Bear  saw  not  friend 
from  foe. 

"All!  Bear,  be  good;  is  this  like  a  gentleman?  are  these 
your  manners  ?  would  you  hurt  poor  Lotty  ?  " 

The  bristles  fell,  the  tail  drooped  ;  Bear  turned  aAvay  his  huge 


188  MARGARET 

jaws,  his  eyes  assumed  a  penitent  and  subdued  look,  and  with  a 
■svliine  of  apology,  he  crouched  at  the  feet  of  his  little  mistress. 

"  The  dog  is  far  too  savage  to  be  loose,"  said  Philip  ;  "  I'll 
have  his  proud  spirit  curbed  with  the  wliip." 

"  No,  Philip,  you  must  not  beat  hiui,  for  then  you  will, 
indeed,  make  him  savage." 

'•  As  soon  as  Ross  has  done  his  horses,  I'll  have  the  hound 
chained  up,  and  a  good  flogging  will  teach  him  not  only  obe- 
dience, but  better  manners." 

Lotty  looked  at  Philip  with  the  first  symptoms  of  defiance  he 
had  ever  seen  in  her  eyes  towards  him.  And  he  Avas  not  much 
mistaken  in  reading  contempt  there  also.  But  he  left  the  room 
to  issue  his  orders  ;  and  when  he  returned,  after  the  lapse  of  an 
hour,  he  found  Lotty  prepared  for  the  dinner  that  had  been 
ordered  for  them,  and  Bear  sleeping  quietlv  under  the  sofa. 
Lotty  was  pale,  but  her  eyes  dark  and  brilliant. 

"  Send  my  servant  here,"  said  Pliilip  to  tlie  Avaiter. 

"  You  nuist  not  have  my  dog  beaten,"  said  Lotty,  calmly. 

"  I  intend  to  have  liim  beaten,"  said  Philip,  coldly. 

"  I  would  rather  that  you  shot  him,  Philip." 

"  I  see  no  use  in  that,  Lotty.     I  mean  but  to  tame  him." 

"  That  is  not  true,  Philip,  you  know ;  witli  a  nature  like  a 
hound's,  you  ruin  him  if  you  beat  him." 

"  We  will  see  al>out  tliat,"  said  Philip,  "  after  the  operation 
is  over,     lie  can  then  be  shot  if  he  proves  wortliless." 

"  He  shall  be  shot  before  he  is  beaten,"  said  Lotty ;  "  here 
are  your  pistols.     I  have  got  them  ready." 

As  she  handed  him  one  of  the  pistols,  her  cheek  grew  paler,  her 
eyes  darker  and  more  resolute  ;   slie  hold  the  other  in  her  hand. 

The  servant  was  heard  approaching. 

"  Come  here,  Bear,"  said  Lotty. 

The  noble  hound  was  by  her  side  as  she  spoke. 

"  Will  you  shoot  my  dog,  if  you  do  not  like  him,  Philip, 
rather  than  have  iiini  l)eaten?" 

"  No  ;   he  shall   l)e  flogged." 

"Then  I  slioot  him  myself,"  said  Lotty. 

Philip  heard  the  click  of  the  lock  ;  she  placed  the  pistol  to  the 
loving  dog's  ear,  who  was  looking  up  at  lier  with  pleased  intel- 
ligence. 

"  Keep  to  one  side,"  she  said.  "  Now,  my  Bear,  farewell. 
You  take  Lolly's  heart  with  you." 

An  irresistible  impulse  to  give  him  one  more  kiss  saved  Bear's 
life. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  189 

Philip  caught  her  hand. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  such  a  fool  about  the  dog.  He 
shall  not  be  flogged." 

"  Ou  your  word,  Philip?" 

"  On  my  word." 

She  took  his  hand,  looked  at  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
"  Thank  you,  Philip."  Still  holding  the  hand,  she  continued, — 
"  Is  Bear  to  go  home  with  Ross,  or  remain  with  us  ?  "  As  Philip 
hesitated  to  reply,  she  said,  — 

"  I  am  afraid,  Philip,  he  will  find  us  out,  wherever  we  are." 

"  Then  take  him  with  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Philip,"  and  she  touched  his  hand  with  her 
lips. 

Her  face  resumed  its  usual  color,  and  her  pretty,  playful 
manner  returned  ;  she  and  Bear  had  quite  a  scene  of  love  and 
adoration,  enacted  in  whispers  and  dumb  show. 

Presently  Lotty  rose,  and  bringing  Philip  a  glass  of  water, 
asked  him  if  his  heart  pained  him. 

"  A  little,"  he  allowed. 

In  fact,  this  strange,  wayward  man,  thus  battling  with  his  own 
happiness,  was  contending  with  several  very  different  emotions. 
He  was  baffled,  and  she  victorious.  That  went  against  the  grain. 
He  was  really  irritated  against  the  dog,  and  his  unkind  nature 
longed  to  inflict  punishment,  no  matter  what  effect  it  had.-upoa 
him. 

But  the  resolute  daring  of  the  childlike  wife,  the  ease  and 
fearless  way  in  which  she  handled  the  pistols,  and  the  deter- 
mined courage  with  which  she  prepared  to  destroy  the  creature 
she  loved  so  Avell,  rather  than  have  it  suffer,  excited  his  warm- 
est admiration.  And  then  the  simple  earnestness  Avith  which 
she  said,  "  Thank  you,  Philip,"  the  unsolicited  touch  of  her 
lips,  though  but  upon  his  hand,  sent  the  blood  rushing  wildly 
through  his  heart,  with  a  feeling  of  ecstasy  he  could  scarce 
define  himself.  For  amid  all  the  love  he  bore  the  little  child- 
wife,  yet  sti-onger  rose  the  spirit  of  pride  and  self-will  Avithiu 
him.  This  was  the  life  he  had  longed  for,  this  the  excitement 
that  was  to  color  his  days  with  alternate  visions  of  clouds  and 
rosy  skies,  and  which  was  to  indemnify  him  for  having  placed 
himself  at  all  within  the  dull  noose  of  matrimony.  And  yet 
strong  must  be  the  love  which  caused  that  proud  heart  to  throb 
thus,  though  he  could  say  to  himself,  "  I  will  let  her  keep  the 
dog  ;  through  his  means  I  may  gain  gi'eater  hold  over  that  wild 
spirit." 


190  MARGARET 

That  he  coiikl  love  thus,  yet  think  thus,  gave  him  an  insight 
into  his  feelings  that  puzzled  and  provoked  him  by  their  strange- 
ness. 


CHAPTER    XLVII. 

The  good  angels  appointed  to  guide  the  steps  of  the  Leighs 
must  have  abandoned  their  posts  —  gloomy  and  irascible  was 
the  heretofore  indolent  Harold.  In  vain  Margaret  became,  in 
her  loving  wife's  duty,  so  sweet,  so  gentle,  so  thouglitful,  the 
essence  of  a  dozen  Margarets  seemed  to  emanate  from  her. 
Harold  neither  looked  at  nor  spoke  to  her.  What  mattered  it 
to  him  if  she  was  good,  and  amiable,  and  loving,  beyond  all  com- 
parison, she  yet  would  not  give  way  in  one  thing.  "  The  ]Mar- 
guerite  "  was  her  rival.  As  such,  Margaret  hated  her  with  a 
cordial,  honest  dislike,  that  never  swerved  amid  all  her  gentle- 
ness. The  more  Haiold  grew  to  know  that  she  was  immovable, 
the  more  did  he  harden  his  heart,  and  elevate  "  the  Marguerite" 
to  the  highest  place  in  his  regard,  and  consequently  her  rival  fell 
in  proportion.  Like  Philip,  he  fed  and  nourisliod  himself  on 
this  excitement  ;  he  loved  to  think  himself  a  victim  ;  he  grew 
enamoured  of  the  struggle,  caring  little,  in  this  strange  charm  of 
novelty,  whether  he  was  right  or  wrong;  Margaret  should  give 
way,  should  learn  to  like,  to  live  in,  to  make  a  home  of  her 
rival.  When  she  had  spent  a  year  witli  him  cruising  about  the 
lovely  sliores  of  the  Mediterranean,  then  he  would  give  way. 
Margaret  might  take  her  rival,  sell  her,  burn  her,  ilestroy  every 
vestige  and  (race  of  her  ;  she  alone  should  reign  Queen  Mar- 
garet as  heretofore.     But  he  would  have  his  own  way  first. 

On  the  rent-day  all  went  well.  The  tenants  were  loud  in 
their  expressions  of  gratitude  for  all  that  their  landlord  had  been 
lately  doing  for  them,  and  witli  a  good  fi-eling  aj)peared  to  a 
man,  and  what  was  of  more  consequence,  every  man  seemed  to 
make  it  a  point  of  honor  to  have  no  arrears.  Every  farthing 
was  paid  down  with  cheerlul  ahicrity,  every  old  debt  settled.  It 
should  be  through  no  fault  of  theirs,  if  their  young  landlord  was 
discouraged  in  his  present  good  course. 

If  Harold  had  been  in  a  better  mood,  he  coidd  not  have  failed 
to  be  touched  by  the  cxiubiliou  of  feelings  until  now  uukuown 
to  him. 


AND   HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  191 

But  his  first  act  on  the  following  morning  was  to  desire  that 
one  half  of  the  proceeds  of  the  reut-day  should  be  sent  to  cer- 
tain agents  at  Cowes,  for  the  payment  of  "  the  Marguerite." 
Part  he  had  already  paid,  and  this  last  sum  would  complete  her 
purchase.  In  vaiu  Mr.  Price  expostulated,  in  vain  Messrs. 
Moneypenny  threatened,  in  vain  they  all  called  upon  Lady  Leigh 
to  use  her  influence.  That  soft  pleading,  those  gentle  entreaties, 
became  as  so  much  oil  on  the  raging  flames,  and  he  made  no 
other  answer  than  an  order  for  his  servant  to  pack  up,  and  an 
offer  to  Miss  Clare  to  escort  her  to  Cowes. 

While  Margaret  mourned  over  the  one  deed.  Lady  Katherine 
boiled  over  the  other,  and  after  the  most  approved  manner  of 
courtly  fashion,  gave  her  son  the  benefit  thereof. 

It  did  not  lessen  the  evil  feelings  filling  his  heart,  that  the  for- 
bearing Margaret  had  every  reason  to  complain,  yet  said  nothing, 
while  the  indignant  Lady  Katherine  had  in  reality  nothing  on 
which  to  found  her  accusations,  yet  railed  herself  into  a  belief 
of  their  truth. 

So,  with  a  stern,  haughty  composure  covering  his  inward 
rage,  Harold  proceeded,  for  the  second  time  since  they  were 
married,  to  bid  his  Margaret  farewell.  One  cold  kiss  he  gave 
her,  but  a  little  sting  of  remorse  penetrated  his  heart  as  she  held 
up  his  boy,  saying,  with  her  eyes,  "At  least  give  him  my  kisses, 
for  I  can  take  them  from  him  when  you  leave  him."  He 
clasped  the  boy  in  his  arms,  kissed  him  many  times,  lovingly 
and  fondly,  and  caught,  as  he  gave  him  back  to  Margaret,  that 
look  of  love  and  devotion  her  eyes  knew  so  well  how  to  express, 
while  a  flush  of  pleasure  tinged  her  pure  cheek  with  more  love- 
liness than  usual.  All  the  leave  he  took  of  his  mother  was  a 
haughty  bow  as  he  seated  himself  in  the  carriage  by  Miss 
Clare's  side,  both  of  which  acts  made  her  bridle  up  with  supreme 
indignation  and  disgust.  But  Margaret  caught  a  last  look,  as 
the  carriage  turned  up  the  avenue,  and  was  comforted. 

Like  the  Egyptian  king,  Harold  tried  to  harden  his  heart  the 
whole  journey  ;  but  that  loving  glance  melted  down  the  granite 
thing  whenever  he  thought  of  it,  and  he  arrived  at  Cowes  almost 
in  an  amiable  mood.  It  even  crossed  his  mind  he  would  write 
to  Margaret.  Miss  Clare  had  been  amiable,  and  kind,  and 
rational.  Indeed,  she  always  took  care  not  to  offend  Harold's 
real  feelings  of  honor  and  rectitude  when  quite  himself.  And 
therefore,  in  some  measure  he  may  be  excused  thinking  her  not 
60  bad  as  she  was  painted  to  him ;  for  he  never  remembered 
what  happened  on  certain  evenings. 


192  MARGARET 

She  invited  him  to  live  at  her  brother's  house,  xmtil  "  the 
Marguerite  "  Avas  ready,  whieh  otter  lie  gladly  accepted.  And 
she  knew  that  her  welcome  there  would  be  much  wanner,  bring- 
ing a  rich  young  Baronet  with  her.  For  much  might  be  made 
out  of  him  in  various  ways  ;  besides  the  consequence  it  would 
give  to  have  such  a  guest  residing  with  a  falling  family,  a  tar- 
nished name. 

"The  Marguerite"  was  a  very  handsome  schooner  screw 
yacht,  exactly  suited  for  the  ocean  home  of  a  family,  being  be- 
tween two  to  three  hundred  tons  burden.  Harold  was  soon 
absorbed  in  all  the  bustle  and  pleasure  of  fitting  her  out.  He 
had  only  two  drawbacks  to  his  happiness  ;  he  really  Avanted 
Margaret,  and  in  spite  of  his  anger,  felt  he  could  enjoy  nothing 
■without  her.  And  secondly,  Mrs.  Bankes  was  in  Cowes,  and  he 
stumbled  over  her  at  all  corners.  IShe  did  not  mend  his  mood 
by  the  remarks  with  which  she  favored  him  whenever  they  met. 

"  (So  you  and  Augusta  are  going  off  together,  are  you  ?  "  says 
she  ;  "  well,  I  hope  you  are  prepared  to  leave  your  characters 
behind  you.  People  Avill  talk,  you  know,  all  I  can  say,  and  they 
■wonder  Lady  Leigh  allows  such  things.  Poor  soul !  say  I,  she 
cannot  help  herself,  she  is  tied  by  the  leg.  Bless  me  !  he  is 
gone  ;  well  to  be  sure,  how  his  eyes  Hushed.  For  my  part, 
spite  of  Lord  Erlscourt,  I  think  tliose  Leighs  are  mad.  It 
would  be  doing  no  more  than  my  duty  to  give  Margaret  a  hint 
of  how  matters  are  going  on  here.  Though  it  is  of  no  use 
writing  to  her,  I  declare  I'll  give  a  hint  to  that  poor  little  old 
maid.  Miss  Leigh  ;  she  will  tell  her  mother  directly,  though  I 
dare  say  the  old  lady  opens  all  her  letters  first,  to  see  that  none 
are  from  lovers.  No  fear  of  that  —  lui !  ha!  poor  old  soul! 
However,  I  will  write  ;  it  is  my  duty  to  prevent  any  evil  occur- 
ring to  my  dear  schoolfellow ;  Fred.,  I  know,  Avill  be  quite 
angry  with  me  if  I  don't.  I  hear  the}'  start  lor  Jersey  to-mor- 
row, a  large  party  of  them.  A  great  shame  "Fred,  and  I  wore 
not  asked.  I  have  been  wishing  to  go  that  identical  trip  lor  so 
long,  and  I  am  a  more  ])rn])er  chaperon  for  Augusta  than  her 
gay  sister-in-law.  In  fact,  1  don't  think  any  of  tlie  party  lune 
much  to  boast  of,  in  the  way  of  discreetness  ;  and  now  I  think 
of  it,  I  feel  sure  my  dear  Fred,  would  not  like  to  see  me  mixed 
up  with  such  a  questionaI;le  lot.  And  I  shall  tell  Miss  Leigh 
that  is  the  reason  I  did  not  accompany  them,  otherwise  my  feel- 
ings for  my  dear  Margaret  would  have  made  me  sacriiicc  every- 
thing to  oblige  her " 

Mrs.  Baukcs's  soliloquies  never  ended,  apparently. 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  193 


CHAPTER    XL Y III. 

Margaket  was  writing  to  her  Harold ;  forgetful  of  his  late 
unkiudness,  regardless  of  his  cold  farewell,  unmindful  of  his 
injustice,  she  was  pouring  out  her  heart's  warmest,  best  feeling 
to  assuage  the  grief  he  must  feel  on  hearing  a  bitter  piece  of 
news.  Price  had  absconded  with  all  that  was  left  of  the  half- 
year's  rents,  and  with  whatever  other  matters  of  value  he  could 
lay  his  hands  upon. 

Sir  Harold's  absence  had  enabled  him  to  mature  his  plans. 
He  went  from  his  house  to  Liverpool  with  the  ostensible  purpose 
of  placing  the  rents  in  Messrs.  Moneypenny's  hands,  but  had 
taken  advantage  of  a  vessel  going  straight  to  the  gold-diggings, 
and  had  been  gone  four  days  ere  the  fact  was  discovered. 

"  My  Harold,  let  me  come  to  yon,"  wrote  the  fond  wife.  "  It 
will,  indeed,  be  as  well  for  us  to  leave  home  for  a  year,  that  Ave 
may  at  once  put  an  end  to  the  drain  of  our  large  establishment ; 
"we  can  no  longer  contend,  love,  against  the  tide  of  our  ill-for- 
tune. But  let  us  face  the  evil  calmly,  for  it  is  not  hopeless. 
Messrs.  Moneypenny  have  been  here.  They  are  willing,  nay, 
most  anxious,  to  accommodate  us  in  every  way.  They  Avill, 
with  your  permission,  appoint  a  trustworthy  agent  of  their  own, 
who  will  manage  the  estates  with  zeal  and  care.  They  promise 
to  proceed  with  the  repairs,  appropriating  a  third  of  the  rents 
for  that  purpose.  They  Avill  reserve  another  third  for  them- 
selves, to  pay  off  the  incumbrance  due  to  them,  and  give  us  the 
last  portion  on  Avhich  to  live  :  surely,  dear  Harold,  Ave  can  live 
in  luxury  and  content  upon  two  thousand  three  hundred  and 
thirty  pounds  a  year,  and  cA^en  less " 

She  had  reached  this  point  of  the  letter,  her  lovely  face  beam- 
ing with  the  thought  that  with  him  half  that  sum  would  be  suf- 
ficient for  her,  Avhen  the  door  opened.  Mr.  Herbert  entered  ; 
his  usually  calm  and  thoughtful  face  Avas  flushed  and  agitated, 
while  a  solemn  pity  beamed  from  his  eyes.  Clasping  the  hand 
she  held  out  to  him,  he  breathed  a  Ioav  prayer  for  strength  and 
fortitude,  "that  he  might  tell,  and  she  might  hear,  Avhat  God 
had  appointed  them." 

"  My  Harold  !  "  exclaimed  Margaret. 

He  boAved  in  assent. 

"Not  dead?"  she  Avhispered,  in  a  tone  that  seemed  to  Gerald 
like  the  sigh  of  some  moui-nful  imprisoned  spirit. 

17 


194  MARGARET 

"  'Twcre  better  had  he  been  taken  from  ns,"  he  answered. 

A  loAv,  deep  sigh,  half  a  sob,  escaped  from  Margaret ;  she 
was  relieved  from  the  worst  fear. 

"  I  am  ready  ;  tell  me." 

"  He  has  gone  —  he  has  fled  from  England,  he  has  left  every 
duty,  every  tie  ;  for,  Lady  Leigh,  he  is  not  alone." 

"  It  is  a  mistake,"  answered  Margaret,  calmly. 

"I  fear  not,"  said  Gerald,  mournfully.  ''Lady  Katherine 
knows  more  than  we  do  ;  she  has  had  letters  to  confirm  Avhat  is 
now  in  the  newspaper.  It  was  she  bade  me  come  to  you  ;  it 
was  at  her  wisli " 

"  The  paper?"  asked  Margaret,  still  and  calm  as  stone,  hold- 
ing her  hand  out  for  it. 

Awed  by  her  manner,  he  gave  it  to  her.  Scarcely  disguising 
names,  in  broad  hints,  and  pointed  allusions,  with  vulgar  re- 
marks and  family  facts,  lay  exposed  to  Margaret's  swimming 
vision,  an  implied  elopement  of  Sir  Harold  Leigh  and  !Miss 
Clare.  The  yacht  "  Marguerite,"  family  embarrassments,  defal- 
cation of  agent,  private  affairs,  misunderstandings  and  quan'els, 
a  mixture  of  slight  truth  and  monstrous  falsehood,  burned  them- 
selves, like  letters  of  fire,  into  Margaret's  heart.  That  name, 
her  Harold's  name,  to  be  thus  blasted  —  that  character,  her 
Harold's  fine,  frank  character,  to  be  thus  vilified  —  she  drew 
herself  up  to  her  full  height,  she  turned  upon  Gerald  her  glow- 
ing face,  radiant  with  a  noble  purity,  Avhile  from  her  eyes 
beamed  an  indignation  so  virtuous  and  exalted,  he  bent  his  stern 
soul  before  it. 

The  beauty  of  mercy,  the  depth  of  holy  pity,  the  wonderful 
Strengtli  of  compassionate  love,  rose  before  his  mental  vision. 
He  stood  humble  and  abashed  at  his  rigid  sternness,  his  cold 
judgment  of  a  fellow-mortal.  He  felt  like  the  servant  who  owed 
his  Lord  ten  thousand  talents,  and  Avas  frankly  forgiven  that 
enormous  debt.  Yet  Avas  he  not  exacting  the  hundred  pence 
from  a  weak,  erring  felloAV-servant  ? 

"  Forgi\c  me  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

'■'■  Thank  y<JM,  (ierald,"  answered  JMargaret ;  "'  now  you  must 
help  me  to  clear  my  Harold's  name." 

"  C'ouuuand  me.  Let  me  go  to  Cowes  ;  intrust  me  with  the 
discovery  of  the  author  of  such  slanders." 

*■'  I  will  go  with  you  ;  yes,  Gerald,  who  so  proper  to  greet  the 
eye.s  of  one  injured  in  so  tender  a  point  as  his  wife?  On  landing, 
Hai-()1(1  nii'^ht  hear  some  odious  wliis])er  ;   lie  will  raise  his  eyes 

in   indignalion,  and  behold  his  Margaret,  and  then "     She 

paused. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  195 

Gerald  looked  tip,  a  deadly  paleness  overspread  the  late  glow- 
ing features  ;  a  pang  of  mortal  agony  and  pain  sent  the  blood 
shuddering  through  her  frame.     He  caught  her  as  she  faltered. 

It  might  be  that  the  many  fears  and  trials  of  the  past  few 
months  had  weakened  her,  it  might  be  the  one  sudden  shock, 
which,  on  a  frame  so  sensitive,  affected  body  and  mind  alike. 
As  her  agony  passed  away  and  her  color  returned,  she  said, 
"  Give  me  my  letter  —  I  must  write,  write  instead  ;  ring  for  my 
maid,  Gerald."  She  wrote  rapidly,  adding  a  few  fond,  loving 
sentences  to  her  former  letter. 

"Now  go,  Gerald,  take  my  Harold  this  letter ;  tell  him  the 
cause  that  prevents  me  being  Avith  you,  and  in  my  coming  hour 
of  peril,  O,  Gerald,  remember,  no  pang  of  bodily  anguish  that 
I  shall  endure,  will  equal  the  mental  pain  I  suffer  until  my 
Harold's  name  is  cleared  !  " 

"  God  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also,  if  I  wrong  him  again,"  said 
Gerald.      "  I  will  now  go  and  undeceive  Lady  Katherine." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,"  she  could  say  no  more.  In  the  bustle  and 
confusion  always  consequent  upon  an  event  occurring  unexpect- 
edly, many  necessary  and  proper  precautions  were  forgotten ; 
or  pei'haps  Margaret's  constitution  was  really  weakened  by  her 
late  trials.  But  from  whatever  cause,  Lotty's  little  goddaughter 
was  born  in  such  an  hour  of  pain  and  danger,  that  the  poor 
mother  heard  not  her  first  cries  ;  she  lay  for  many  hours,  wholly 
unconscious,  her  spirit  hovering  between  life  and  death. 

Gerald  had  failed  to  convince  Lady  Katherine,  who,  after 
writing  to  her  son,  had  established  herself  by  Margaret's  uncon- 
scious side,  while  he  proceeded  to  Cowes. 


CHAPTER    XL  IX. 

Lady  Katherine  had,  at  first,  sat  down  stunned,  as  it  were, 
with  the  fulfilment  of  her  fears.  Then  she  awoke  to  the  fact 
that  she  must  act  in  a  becoming  and  proper  manner  for  the  oc- 
casion. She  called  to  mind  all  the  occasions  in  Avhich  the 
blessed  Queen  Charlotte  had  been  placed  in  somewhat  similar 
circumstances,  through  the  unbridled  habits  of  her  own  princely 
sons. 

Ever  anxious  to  act,  on  all  occasions,  after  the  manner  of  her 


196  MARGARET 

ausriist  example,  if  it  unhappily  fell  out  she  "was  to  do  so  under 
such  painful  circumstances,  still  she  would  do  it.  Her  sou  had 
disirraced  the  name  of  Leiirh  —  he  Avas  her  son  no  longer.  He 
had  outraged  every  feeling  of  love  and  duty  to  both  his  Avife  and 
herself;  therefore  he  must  be  considered  as  dead  to  both  of  them 
imtil 

Here  Lady  Katherine  paused.  An  idea  shot  through  the  ob- 
tuseness  of  her  mind  that  Harold  Avas  her  son  after  all  —  her 
only  son.  Her  life  -would  be  almost,  if  not  quite  a  blank  Avithout 
him.  Xi'vortheless,  the  world  Avould  expect  her  to  act  in  a  be- 
coming manner  ;  at  least  she  must  show  she  had  not  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  great  and  high  example  Avithout  being  able  to  profit 
thert'bv.  So,  in  srand  and  ma^inauimous  laniruai;e,  she  indited 
a  letter  to  her  son.  Slie  painted  in  high  colors  the  crimes  of 
Avhich  she  presumed  him  guilty  ;  she  forbade. him  her  sight,  until 
time,  remorse,  and  proper  feelings  should  urge  him  to  seek  her 
forgiAcness.  She  should  interdict  his  name,  hitherto  so  beloA'cd, 
now  so  stained,  being  mentioned  to  her.  8he  darkly  hinted  at 
his  Avife's  horror  and  indignation  leading  to  separation,  perhaps 
divorce  ;  and,  Avinding  up  Avith  an  heroic  finale,  she  commended 
him  to  the  poAvers  of  an  outraged  Heaven. 

Lady  Katherine  read  her  letter  over  to  herself,  in  pleasing 
api)robatiou  of  the  pith  and  force  of  her  Avords,  and  then  sealing 
and  sending  it,  slie  ])roceeded  to  give  Gerald  tlio  audience  he  Avas 
craving,  receiving  him  Avith  the  air  of  a  Koniau  motlier,  and  the 
dignity  proper  for  the  late  bedchambei'-Avoman  of  good  Queen 
Charhjtte  to  show. 

Mr.  Herbert  ibund  it  A"aiu  to  reason  Avith  her.  He  thought  it 
best  to  proceed  at  once  to  Cowes,  and  act  as  he  knew  Margaret 
Avuuld  Avish.  So  sending  Lady  Katherine  to  her  daughter's  bed- 
side, tliaiiking  God  for  tlie  mercy  tliat  liad  opened  his  heart,  and 
freed  him  i'roin  a  crime  such  as  Lady  Katheriue's  ap2)eared  now 
to  him,  he  took  leaA'e  of  his  Milly,  and  departed. 

At  Cowes  lie  found  Basil,  already  Avorking  zealously  in  the 
same  cause.  To  no  one  could  they  exactly  trace  the  origin  of 
tlie  rumor.  Some  said  the  character  of  the  Clares  Avarranted  it ; 
otiiers,  it  seemed  strange  that  Sir  Harold  should  have  left  his 
Avife  and  consorted  w  ifh  such  people  ;  Avhile  one  and  all  declared, 
upon  tiieir  honor,  they  had  never  spread  such  reports.  Loudest 
among  these  Avas  IMrs.  liaukes  ;  aud  Avhile  the  good  Gerald  took 
her  at  her  word,  the  more  worl{ll>'-wise  Basil  alarmed  her  so 
nuieh  with  his  hints  and  remarks  regardini:;  llie  punishment  due 
to  the  authors  of  such  slanders,  that  she  packed  up  her  things  and 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  197 

left  Co-\ves  forthwith.  Her  fears  got  the  better  of  her  curiosity  ; 
dying,  as  she  was,  with  anxiety  to  witness  tlie  denouement  of 
the  alFair,  she  persuaded  her  dear  Fred,  that  they  should  glean 
much  better  accounts  from  the  papers,  and  that,  at  all  events,  it 
was  desirable  they  should  avoid  getting  dragged  into  the  mess. 
.To  this  "  dear  Fred."  readily  agreed. 

Meantime,  at  the  back  of  the  island,  in  a  snug  little  bay,  was 
the  object  of  all  their  hopes,  thoughts,  and  wishes.  "  The  Mar- 
guerite" had  returned  from  her  cruise  in  the  Channel  Islands, 
and  to  please  Miss  Clare  and  her  companions,  perhaps  also  him- 
self, Harold  had  consented  to  coast  round  the  island  ere  they 
finally  landed. 

The  effect  of  the  short  voyage  he  had  taken  riveted  in  Harold's 
heart  the  chains  of  "  the  Marguerite  "  over  him.  But  the  con- 
stant intercourse  such  close  companionship  as  a  vessel  brought 
him  into  with  his  present  guests  Avas  a  counterbalance. 

Exquisite  was  the  sensation  of  gliding  over  tlie  fair  but  solemn 
sea,  holding  in  its  vast  green  bosom  such  hoards  of  mysteries, 
such  countless  lives,  such  boundless  riches,  and  sucli  mighty 
powers  !  But  the  light  laughter  of  an  uncongenial  spirit  jarred 
upon  Harold's  nerves.  His  gay  companions  thought  this  object 
of  his  love  and  veneration  was  merely  the  sea,  who  might  prove 
very  disagreeable  and  make  them  feel  ill,  and  look  so.  Now, 
with  Margaret,  this  would  be  different. 

In  the  night  time,  Avhen  he  gazed  on  the  stars,  looking  down, 
as  it  were,  on  a  firmament  as  clear  as  their  own,  wliat  answer 
could  he  get  from  one  of  his  companions  to  the  solemn  thoughts 
arising  Avithin  him  ?  The  rattle  of  the  dice-box  below  in  the 
cabin,  the  wild  song,  the  hasty  language,  were  all  he  could  hope 
for.  With  Margaret  he  mifjht  have  interchan2;ed  thous'hts  that 
Avould  have  draAvn  them  still  closer  together.  So,  Avith  all  his 
late  feelings  softening  toAA'ards  her,  he  Avould  pace  the  deck  half 
the  night,  and  think  of  nothing  but  his  Margaret.  An  irresist- 
ible impulse  induced  him  to  Avrite  to  her,  and  post  the  letter  at 
Jersey. 

After  giving  her  an  account  of  his  journey,  Avhom  he  had  with 
him,  Avhat  they  intended  doing,  he  Avound  up  thus  :  — 

"  And  noAv,  sweet  Meg,  take  those  kisses  from  your  boy. 
They  are  yours,  and  yours  only.  Forgive  your  Avayward  Harold. 
Remember  that  one  such  look  as  you  gaA-e  me,  Avhen  Ave  parted, 
revenges  you  Avell.  I  see  in  the  stars  now  above  me,  tAvo  such 
angel  lights  that  seem  to  tell  me  Avhat  a  brute  I  am.  And  up 
from  the  bosom  of  the  sea  come  liquid  soft  glances,  saying, 
17*    . 


108  MARGARET 

'  Cruel  Harold  !  '  'Tis  in  vain  that  I  close  my  eyes,  trying  to 
shut  out  the  remembrance  of  your  last  look.  It  haunts  me, 
sweet  wife  ;  may  it  do  so  ever  !  Then,  mIipu  I  return  homo, 
Queen  Margaret  shall  say  she  has  no  more  loving  subject  than 
her  IIakold." 

I\Iargarct  had  been  ill  and  insensible  three  days  -when  thia 
letter  arrived  at  Court  Leiirh. 

So  Harold  returned  to  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  a  softened  and 
kind  mood  ;  aud  though  he  might  have  felt  anxious  to  return 
home,  he  put  into  Newtown  late  one  evening,  with  the  full  deter- 
mination of  taking  his  guests  all  round  the  coast,  as  he  had 
promised.  But  he  sent  his  servant  over  to  Cowes  for  his  letters, 
Avitli  orders  to  be  Avith  him  as  early  as  possible  in  the  morning. 
Tlie  man  brought  but  one,  and,  within  half  an  liour  of  receiving 
it,  Sir  Harold  sent  orders  to  his  captain  to  make  all  sail. 

"  "Where  to?"  demanded  the  captain. 

The  steward  went  down  to  inquire,  but  came  up  again  in 
doul)le-quick  time. 

"  Where  you  like,"  he  muttered,  "  so  it's  aAvay  from  this 
cursed  island ;  and  I  am  not  sure  if  lie  did  not  say  '  to  the 
devil ! ' " 

"  Wliy,  Avhat's  the  matter?"  asked  the  captain. 

"It  will  be  that  letter  he  got;  he  is  in  a  rare  tantrum,  and 
there's  not  a  bit  of  the  letter  left  as  big  as  the  tip  of  my  finger," 

"  AVell,  the  hotter  the  passion,  the  sooner  it  is  over  ;  so  I'll 
obey  orders  to  weigh,  aud  get  av.ay  from  the  island".  May  be,  by 
six  bells  lie  will  know  his  own  mind." 

Sir  Harold's  guests  Avere  much  surprised  to  find  on  rising  (hat 
they  were  many  miles  from  land,  and  that  he  did  not  appear  out 
of  his  cal)in  ;  but  as  they  were  nothing  loth  for  a  longer  voyage, 
the  two  facts  concerned  them  very  little. 

Meantime  a  rumor  reached  Cowes  that  "  the  ]\rarguerite"  had 
put  info  Newtown.  Basil  and  Gerald  posted  off  there  wilhout  a 
nioment's  delay.  They  arrived  in  time  to  sec  "  the  Marguerite" 
just  disaj)pearing  on  the  horizon. 

''  Let  us  haste  back,"  said  Basil  ;  "  '  the  Ripple  '  is  ready  for 
sea,  Ave  uuiy  hope  to  overtake  hci." 

"  The  screAV  yaejit,"  said  a  sailor,  on  hearing  him,  "  has  very 
little  coal  on  board  ;  she  can't  go  far." 

"  HoAv  do  y(ju  knoAv?"  asked  Gerald. 

"  Some  of  th(!  crcAV  Avere  asliore  last  niglit,  and  s.iid  as  how 
they  meant  only  to  coast  round  the  island  ;  they  look  in  fresh 
stores  lor  a  day  or  two." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  199 

No  time  was  lost ;  Gerald  outdid  Basil  in  his  exertions  ;  and  by- 
noon  they  were  well  out  to  sea. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  a  dirty  night  of  it,"  said  the  captain 
of  the  "  Ripple  "  to  Basil. 

"  Care  for  nought,  so  you  overtake  '  the  Marguerite,' "  was 

the  reply. 

"  What  course  was  she  taking?  for  Ave  might  miss  her  in  the 
night." 

''What!  cannot  we  come  up  with  her  before  night?"  ex- 
claimed Gerald. 

"  She  had  six  hours'  start,  sir,  and  Ave  have  not  sighted  her 
yet.  If  you  could  tell  me  Avhither  she  Avas  bound,  I  might  be 
able  to  form  a  judgment." 

"  That  I  cannot  tell ;  she  seemed  to  haA'e  gone  off  suddenly, 
Avithout  a  purpose,  making  for  the  coast  of  Holland." 

"  If  the  Avind  keeps  on  this  tack,  and  she  is  short  of  coal,  she 
must  about-ship.  No  sea-going  captain  Avill  trust  his  craft,  in 
dirty  Aveather,  too  near  the  coast  of  Holland.  The  shoals  there 
soon  SAvalloAV  their  prey." 

"  Do  you  knoAv  any  thing  of  the  captain  of  '  the  Margue- 
rite?'" 

"  Nothing,  my  lord ;  he  Avas  just  taken  at  a  venture.  Sir 
Harold  Avas  in  such  a  hurry  to  be  oiF." 

"  I  cannot  tliiuk,"  said  Basil,  pacing  uneasily  up  and  down  his 
little  deck,  "  Avhat  caused  Harold  to  go  again  in  such  a  hurry. 
Could  he  have  heard  any  of  the  rumors  at  NeAvtoAAii?  It  is  just 
like  him  to  take  the  pet,  and  go  off  again  in  a  tangent." 

"Ha!"  said  Gerald,  "a  thought  strikes  me  —  his  mother 
wrote  to  him  ;  I  remember  she  boasted  to  me  of  having  done  so. 
He  has  received  it,  and  here,  here  is  the  panacea  for  all  he  might 
feel,  noAV  in  my  possession.  Not  an  hour  of  the  time  since  it 
Avas  giA^en  me  have  I  failed  to  feel  that  it  was  safe,  ready  to  put 
into  Harold's  hand  the  moment  I  saAv  him." 

"  Your  conjecture  must  be  right,"  ansAvered  Basil;  "he  has 
received  his  motlicr's  letter,  and  none  from  Margaret.  Poor 
Harold  ! " 

"We  pursue  at  CA'ery  risk?"  demanded  Gerald. 
"  Yes,"    responded    Basil ;   "  one    hundred    pounds    shall    be 
divided  among  you  the  hour  I  board  '  the  Marguerite,'  "  con- 
tinued he,  turning  to  his  crew. 

"  Ay,  ay,  my  lord,"  they  ansAA^cred  ;  "  Ave'll  Avork  Avith  a  Avill." 

LoAV  and  gloomy  clouds  gathered  themselves  in  large  masses, 

rolling  and  unfolding  under  the  veiy  rays  of  the  setting  sun.     A 


200  MARGARET 

hollow  wind  seemed  to  sweep  over  the  sea,  whistling  shrill  as  it 
caught  the  light  spars  of  "  the  Ripple  "  in  its  grasp,  or  sent  the 
crests  of  the  waves  in  briny  showers  over  the  anxious  watchers. 

A  deep  and  miglity  spirit  seemed  moving  the  ocean,  whose 
bosom  swelled  so  high  ;  the  little,  light  vessel  was  now  borne  ou 
some  great  billow,  and  again  sunk  deep  in  a  valley  of  waters. 

"  I  am  glad  I  left  my  boys  at  home,"  said  Basil  to  himself. 

"  God  love  my  Milliccnt !  "  was  Gerald's  prayer. 


C  11 A  P  T  E  R     L  . 

PiifLiP  Leigh  took  Lotty  to  Paris  at  first.  And  if  he  had 
purposely  wished  to  make  the  affectionate  and  anxious  Beauvil- 
liaus  know  that  ''  their  girl  "  Avas  happy,  he  could  not  ha\e  taken 
a  better  course. 

Lotty  was  delighted.  The  beauty  of  the  public  buildings,  the 
fresh,  clear  air,  free  from  all  smoke,  the  clean  and  new  appear- 
ance of  every  thing,  charmed  her  correct  eye  and  good  taste. 

With  a  mind  so  constituted,  that  she  found  food  and  amuse- 
ment for  it  in  the  smallest  daisy,  the  lightest  cloud,  the  nnn-ow- 
est  space  ;  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Lotty  drank  in 
largely,  with  keen  enjoyment,  the  sights  and  sounds  with  which 
she  was  now  surrounded. 

Had  Philip's  mind  been  in  a  less  morbid  condition,  it  must 
have  been  both  charmed  and  elevated  by  thus  associating  with 
one  so  fresh  and  intelligent. 

The  unerring  judgment  with  wliicli  she  fixed  at  once  upon  the 
most  correct  building,  the  Jinest  pictures,  and  the  most  bL'autil'ul 
statues,  Avhile  it  riveted  the  chains  of  admiration  Philip  felt  for 
her,  awoke  no  happier  or  more  genial  mood  in  his  breast. 

She  was  not  to  be  happy  but  througli  liim  ;  she  was  to  see 
with  his  eyes,  hear  with  his  ears,  sjjcak  with  his  mouth.  And 
yet  he  acknowledged  to  himself  that  it  Avas  her  free,  independent 
mind;  her  noble,  truthful  heart;  her  IVank,  ha])])y  (enipcr,  that 
made  her  so  adorable  to  him.  And  how  was  he  to  make  two 
Buch  incongruities  meet? 

He  would  try  a  new  ])lan. 

"Why  do  you  go  so  often  to  see  that  one  picture?"  said  he, 
one  day,  to  Lotty,  as  he  found  her  in  her  usual  place  before  the 
"Assumption  of  the  ^'irgin  Mary." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  201 

"  It  does  me  good  to  look  at  that  face,  Philip,"  she  answered. 

"  I  do  not  see  any  thing  very  particular  about  it  in  point  of 
beauty.     The  faces  of  the  children  seem  to  me  more  lovely." 

"  But  it  is  the  expf-ession,  Philip,  so  pure,  so  devoted,  so  self- 
forijotten.     It  is  so  like  Marraret." 

"  Ha  !  "  said  Philip,  "  I  thought  you  had  a  reason  for  such 
admiration  of  this  picture.     Lotty  !  ^ye  leave  Paris  to-morrow." 

"Very  well,  Philip." 

Once,  when  a  youngpr  man,  Philip  had  resided  for  some 
months  in  an  old  chateau  ia  the  forest  of  Ardennes  ;  partly  that 
he  might,  unmolested,  study  the  French  language,  and  partly  that 
he  might  have  the  roLixation  of  some  species  of  sport.  Tlie 
chateau  was  old,  gloomy,  and  damp,  in  the  heart  of  the  forest. 
A  farmer  and  his  wife,  with  one  servant,  lived  in  it  Avheu  Philip 
was  there.  If  the  same  people  inhabited  it  now,  Philip  could 
have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  Lotty  would  find  any  society  so 
congenial  to  her  as  his  own.  Surely,  in  lonely  solitude,  nothing 
could  come  between  him  and  her  love. 

He  took  the  chateau  for  the  three  autumn  months  ;  and  Lotty 
went  at  once  from  the  fair  city  of  Paris,  with  its  palaces,  and 
countless  luxuries,  to  a  tumble-down,  old  chateau,  that  smelt 
of  mouldy  cheese,  and  fusty  mice. 

No  one  dwelt  within  three  leagues  of  the  place.  So  Philip 
set  himself  steadily  to  watch  for  a  change  in  that  cheerful 
spirit. 

A  week  passed. 

"  O  Philip  !  "  said  she  at  the  end  of  it,  "  you  must  come  Avith 
me  to-day,  that  I  may  show  you  the  most  magnificent  Spanish 
chestnut-tree  I  ever  beheld.  Bear  and  I  discovered  it  this 
morning,  and  we  gathered  chestnuts  by  the  thousand.  Do  you 
know,  Philip,  old  Aimee  makes  bread  of  these  chestnuts.  She 
is  going  to  teach  me  to  do  it  some  day." 

"  I  thought  that  sour  old  dame  spoke  to  no  one,"  said  Philip. 

"  She  is  not  at  all  sour,  Philip  ;  she  is  very  kind  to  me.  I 
have  been  helping  every  morning  to  milk  those  poor,  miserable, 
old  cows  ;  and  I  have  enjoyed  giving  an  account  of  ours.  Ah  ! 
Philip,  she  was  so  infinitely  amusing  in  her  wonder." 

"  How  do  you  make  her  understand  you?  She  has  the  most 
outrageous  'patois  I  ever  heard." 

"  I  put  a  great  quantity  of  Gloucester  dialect  into  my  French, 
and  we  get  on  wonderfully." 

They  Avent  to  see  the  great  chestnut-tree. 

"  What  an  age  it  must  be,  Philip  ;  I  should  like  to  take  some 


202  MARGARET 

of  the  young  ones,  sprouting  about  lierc,  home.  I  think  an 
avenue  of  Spanish  chestnuts  Avould  be  beautiful.  Don't  you, 
Bear?" 

Bear  agreeing,  they  both  set  olf  for  a  race,  and  her  sweet 
laughter  rang  through  the  forest.  At  the  end  of  another  Aveek 
Lotty  was  very  full  of  business. 

"That  old  Gerard  is  getting  in  his  harvest,  and  wants  the 
girl,  so  I  am  going  to  cook  the  dinner  and  act  maid  ;  and  you 
must  not  scold,  Philip,  or  perhaps  the  new  maid  Avill  turn  sulky, 
and  not  wait  upon  you." 

She  looked  so  fresh  and  pretty,  his  eyes  followed  every  move- 
ment, though  he  said  nothing.  Clearly  there  was  no  taming  her 
this  way.  Hard  as  the  trial  was  to  him,  and  bitterly  as  he  pun- 
ished himself,  he  determined  to  plead  a  sudden  recall  home,  and 
leave  her  there  by  herself. 

Tiiey  only  received  a  post  once  a  week.  Upon  the  receipt  of 
the  next  one  he  would  act  upon  this  thought.     He  did  so. 

"  Then,"  said  Lotty,  "  Bear,  you  and  1  must  go  and  get  the 
chestnuts  up.     Do  you  mind  taking  tlieui  home,  Philip?" 

"No,  he  did  not  care  ;  "  in  fact,  at  that  moment,  all  he  cared 
for  was  one  look  of  disturbance  or  disappointment  in  her  eyes. 
There  was  none. 

He  went ;  and  that  her  eyes  looked  Avistfully  after  him  he  felt 
certain.  The  exquisite  delight  of  this  thought  kept  up  his 
spirits  for  full  ten  days.  Not  that  he  went  to  England,  or 
intended  to  do  so  —  he  Avas  but  at  the  post-town  contiguous  to 
the  old  chateau. 

In  about  a  fortnight  he  became  painfully  anxious  to  see  that 
bright  face  again  ;  not  that  he  expected  it  to  look  bright  —  he 
hoped  it  would  be  pale  and  sad,  and  only  brighten  when  it  saw 
him.  But  it  was  ratjier  too  soon  as  yet ;  so  he  went  to  Paris, 
for  a  few  days,  to  consult  a  doctor  al)Out  his  heart,  wliich  he 
again  felt  uucomfortablc. 

During  that  time  he  learned  not  only  from  tlie  English  papers, 
but  IVom  home,  the  sad  history  of  Court  Leigh. 

His  first  thought  was,  how  glad  he  felt  that  he  had  taken 
Lotty  I'rom  home  before  Lady  Leigh's  illness.  She  would  have 
thought  him  a  brute  to  have  refused  her  kind  cares  and  consola- 
tions at  such  a  time. 

His  second  tliought  took  tlie  Inrm  of  a  species  of  pleasure, 
that  Lady  Leigh  should  be  thus  hurt  in  the  tenderest  point.  He 
had  long  owed  her  a  grudge  for  her  insensibility  to  his  atti*ac- 
tioDS.     Now  he  was  revenged. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  203 

His  third  thought  dwelt  upon  his  cousin.  If  he  had  been  a 
fool  (which  was  all  the  blame  he  attached  to  such  crimes),  it 
was  nothing  to  him,  Philip  Leigh.  It  only  gave  him  a  greater 
probability  of  succeeding  to  the  title  he  had  so  long  coveted. 

So,  with  all  the  letters  and  papers  in  his  pockets  to  show 
Lotty,  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the  old  chateau,  the  agitation  of 
his  heart  increasing  the  nearer  he  approached. 

A  double  dose  of  the  soothing  tincture  prescribed  by  his  Paris 
doctor  was  necessary  to  calm  his  agitation.  As  he  drove  into 
the  old  court,  no  one  appeared  to  welcome  him  ;  he  had  half 
fondly  fancied  such  might  be  the  case.  He  left  the  carriage 
with  his  hand  on  his  side.  Though  unlocked,  the  house  was 
empty.  No  farmer,  no  Aimee,  no  servants.  It  was  well  for 
his  nerves  that  he  recollected,  probably  at  this  time  of  the  year 
they  Avere  all  out  in  the  fields,  and  it  Avas  clearly  his  own  fault 
giving  them  no  timely  notice  of  his  coming. 

Bidding  the  driver  put  up  his  horses  as  best  he  could,  and 
promising  him  some  refreshment,  he  passed  on  to  the  rooms  he 
inhabited  with  Lotty.  All  scrupulously  neat  and  clean,  but 
cold  and  bare  ;  no  fires,  no  sign  of  them,  nothing  lying  about, 
as  if  she  had  been  lately  there.  For  a  moment  his  heax't  stopped 
beating.  Had  she  gone  ?  Had  the  solitude  proved  too  much 
for  that  happy  congenial  spirit,  which  loved  to  bask  itself  in  the 
hearts  of  kindred  and  people  ?  He  lay  still  and  quiet  for  a  few 
moments  to  recover  himself,  and  then  passed  on  to  her  bed-room. 
He  leaned  for  support  against  the  door,  as  he  saw  a  little  dress 
hanging  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  with  many  other  signs  of  her 
presence  ;  the  windows  wide  open,  letting  in  the  cool  autumn 
breeze,  with  the  early  dead  leaves  rustling  in  with  it.  Lotty 
herself  spoke,  in  all  the  neat  arrangements  of  the  room.  lu  a 
small  antechamber  beyond  there  were  even  later  marks  of  her 
having  been  there. 

A  letter  was  on  her  desk,  unsealed,  directed  to  her  brother 
Norman  ;  some  blocks  of  wood  were  lying  about,  with  chips  and 
shavings,  two  penknives,  and  a  file  ;  and  on  the  table  was  a 
half-finished,  but  most  si^irited  likeness  of  Bear,  carved  in  wood. 
Rejoiced  as  he  was  to  be  certified  that  she  must  have  been  there 
that  morning,  he  would  have  been  glad  to  see  disorder,  the  un- 
mistakable mark  of  neglect  and  indifierence. 

She  Avas  not  idle  either.  Philip  gazed  Avith  admiration  on 
various  rough  draAvings,  representing  diflferent  things,  and  from 
Avhich  he  now  perceived  carvings  Avere  being  made  in  soft  Avood, 
in   different  stages  of  completion,  but  all  beautiful  and  true  to 


204  ,  MARGAEET. 

nature.  His  heart  being  at  ease  from  its  first  fear,  and  think- 
iug,  from  Lotty's  habits,  she  was  sure  to  be  in  the  fiekls  with 
the  people  of  the  house,  he  proceeded  to  ransack  the  cupboards 
for  food,  both  for  himself  and  the  man. 

Xothiug  could  he  find  but  part  of  a  loaf  of  black  barley 
bread. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  in  search  of  some  one. 
He  soon  found  the  people,  but  Lotty  was  not  with  them  —  she 
had  gone,  as  they  supposed,  to  the  great  chestuut-tree  with  Bear. 
He  took  his  way  slowly  to  the  place.  As  he  neared  it,  he  went 
with  a  litrhter  stop  —  he  Avished  to  see  her  before  she  caught 
sight  of  him.  His  heart  thrilled  with  a  strange  sensation,  and 
he  stopped  to  calm  it.  He  heard  her  low,  sweet  voice,  singing 
the  solt  murmuring  song  he  had  never  heard  from  her  since  she 
liad  sat  on  the  arm  of  lu-r  father's  chair. 

AVhon  he  could  look,  the  little  fairy  thing  was  on  her  knees 
piling  up  a  fagot  of  sticks,  wdiich  she  broke  and  placed  deftly 
on  the  heap  belbre  her.  And  as  she  sang,  she  heaped  some  dry 
leaves  out  of  her  lap  on  to  the  Avhole  ;  tlicn  lighting  the  pile,  she 
put  stick  after  stick  on  to  the  burning  mass,  until  she  had  a 
bright  fire  before  her,  and  it  crackled,  blazed,  and  sputtered,  to 
the  sweet  song  ringing  from  her  heart. 

Presently  the  fire  seemed  in  the  proper  state  for  her  fancy, 
and  she  spread  about  the  hot  ashes,  putting  in  handfuls  of  chest- 
nuts. Tlieu  she  called  aloud,  "  Bear  !  Bear  !  where  are  you, 
idle  fellow?"  And  shortly  Bear  made  his  appearance  with  a 
rabbit  in  his  mouth. 

"■  Now,  Bear,  give  it  to  me.  Bear  is  a  gentleman  —  he  does 
not  eat  raw  meat  like  a  wolf,  but  waits  until  Lotty  cooks  liis 
dinner.  Well,  what  is  it,  my  Bear,  Avluit  disturbs  you?  some- 
body coming?  No  one  that  will  hurt  us,  I  know.  What,  still 
uneasy;  has  Philip  come?  "Well!  then,  let  us  welcome  him." 
So  she  left  her  fire  and  occupation,  and  came  to  where  I'hilip 
was  standing. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Philip?  how  aj-e  all  at  home?  " 

He  drew  her  towards  him,  with  a  strange,  sad  feeling  in  his 
heart,  that  expressed  itself  in  his  fiice. 

"Are  you  ill,  Philip?"  And  her  eyes  looked  up  anxiously 
into  his. 

"  No,  Lotty  ;  T  was  afraid  I  mi,Lrht  have  found  you  but  didl 
and  mdanclioly,  leaving  you  so  long  alone." 

••  I  )iill  ?  O  !  no,  Philip,  do  not  think  thus  ;  we  don't  know  what 
it  is  to  be  dull." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDg.  205 

"  But  what  are  you  doing  here  with  that  fire,  and  Avhy  do  you 
permit  Bear  to  destroy  the  game  ?  " 

"  It  is  his  dinner,  Philip  —  he  has  nothing  else  to  live  upon." 

"  I  always  thought  he  had  the  same  as  you  liave." 

"  Yes,  in  general ;  but  he  cannot  eat  chestnuts." 

"  Child,  do  you  mean  that  you  dine  on  chestnuts  ?  —  is  that 
your  dinner  preparing  now  ?  '^ 

"  Yes,  Philip  ;  you  left  us  no  money." 

"  My  Lotty,  my  poor  Lotty  ! — but  why  did  you  not  order 
what  you  wanted?  Would  these  rascally  people  not  trust 
you?" 

"  O,  yes,  I  might  have  had  what  I  liked ;  but  do  not  vex 
yourself,  Philip  ;  I  never  was  better,  and  I  have  really  not  felt  a 
single  want." 

"  But  why,  why  could  you  be  so  silly,  Lotty?  you  knew  it 
woidd  make  me  very  angry." 

"  I  did  not  think  you  would  ever  know  it,  Philip.  If  you 
returned " 

"If  I  returned,  Lotty?" 

"  Yes,  I  did  not  know  that  you  would  ;  there  was  nothing  that  ' 
I  knew  of  to  make  you  remain  with  me.     You  seem  to  take  no 
pleasure  in  my  society." 

He  interrupted  her  with  an  exclamation.  This  to  him  who 
felt  as  if  dead  when  away  from  her. 

"  Well,  eat  your  dinner.  I  should  like  to  see  how  you  and 
Bear  manage,"  he  gasped  out  at  last. 

"  Come,  then,  and  lie  down  here.  You  see  my  chestnuts.are 
just  done,  and  I  break  them  up  into  this  pot  of  cream,  for  I  earn 
this  by  milking  the  cows  in  the  morning.  Now  taste,  Philip  ;  is 
it  not  good  ?  " 

He  assented,  at  the  same  time  adding,  "  But  not  for  the  only 
dinner  one  has." 

"  But  do  you  know,  Philip,  people  nowadays  eat  far  too 
much.  One  thing  is  quite  enough  for  dinner  ;  and  if  you  were 
accustomed  to  one  thing,  you  would  shortly  be  surprised  at  ever 
having  given  yourself  up  to  such  gluttony  as  two."  And  she 
laughed  her  pretty,  hearty  laugh,  because,  as  she  declared.  Bear 
was  looking  so  cross,  that  she  was  caring  for  Philip,  and  not 
him. 

"  I  always  tell  Bear  he  is  not  to  eat  his  dinner  raw,  but  to 
bring  it  to  me  to  be  cooked,  that  he  may  show  he  is  a  gentleman 
born  ;  and  do  you  know,  Philip,  one  day  he  brought  me  a  young 
pig.     I  did  not  know  what  to  do." 

18 


206  MARGARET. 

Thug,  as  she  ate  her  chestnuts  and  cream,  did  slie  chatter  in 
happy  glee  sucli  as  he  hud  hardly  ever  seen  before  in  her.  Was 
it  to  mock  him?  No,  for  on  arriving  at  liome,  and  talking  with 
old  Aimcc,  he  soon  discovered  enough  to  know  she  had  been 
neither  dull  nor  moped. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  old  woman,  in  her  patois,  "  she  is  a  fairy,  a 
cliild-angel ;  she  is  good,  she  is  pretty,  she  is  wise,  she  is  not 
luuuan,  she  is  not  of  our  natures.  All  things  love  her,  all  grows 
to  her  hand.  ISlie  would  not  let  me  buy  her  food  ;  uo,  she  said, 
the  sreat  Father  gave  her  her  liead  and  her  two  hands.  Other 
people  Avorked  for  food,  why  should  not  she?  and  she  grows 
brighter  and  more  lovely  each  day  ;  but  she  will  buy  for  others. 
Slic  makes  her  fine  wooden  dogs,  and  her  pretty  wooden  houses, 
and  I  must  have  one  to  sell,  to  buy  me  my  warm  jacket,  and 
Gerard  must  have  one  to  soil,  to  buy  him  a  new  blouse.  And 
Avho  is  not  better  for  the  foiry  child?  And  she  reads  the  Holy 
Book,  and  no  one  can  do  ill  when  she  is  by.  Babette  is  not 
heedless  and  pert,  Gerard  is  good  and  kind,  and  I  think  to  my- 
self, '  Aimoe,  let  not  the  child-angel  see  you  have  cross  words  on 
your  tongue.'  " 

So  Philip  had  absented  himself  for  nothing,  nay,  rather  to  find 
that  she  was  more  happy  without  than  with  liim  ;  but  all  the  sor- 
row he  wished  her  to  have  felt,  all  the  grief  and  trouble  he  meant 
to  find  her  in,  now  fell  upon  her.  She  Avas  broken-hearted  for 
her  Margaret. 

Never  since  the  death  of  her  father  had  he  seen  her  so  moAcd. 
And.  if  he  had  not  been  jealous  and  angry,  that  all  this  sorrow 
•was  for  Margaret,  and  not  for  him,  he  must  have  contrasted  the 
fine,  noble  energy  with  Avhicli  she  vindicated  Harold,  Avith  the 
cold,  sellish  thoughts  that  had  tilled  his  own  heart. 

She  besought  him  to  let  her  go  to  Margaret.  "  He  did  not 
see  any  need,"  he  said,  "  in  granting  her  petition.  Margaret 
had  sufficient  people  to  console  her,  Avithout  Lotty." 


CHAPTER    LT. 

FoTTRTEKX  days  and  nights  did  the  buoyant  little  "  Ripple " 
contend  Avith  the  boisterous  elements.  Fourteen  days  did  Basil 
ami  Gerald  see  rise  with  hope,  and  fourteen  nights  close  Avith 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS,  207 

despair.  Not  once  had  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  "  the  Margue- 
rite." 

Their  own  peril  had  been  great.  Cruising  as  near  the  coast 
of  Holland  as  they  dared,  they  had  been  spectators  of  more  than 
one  vessel  disappearing  in  those  treacherous  sands,  without  the 
power  to  assist.  Nothing  but  the  light  draught  of  the  "  Ripple  " 
saved  them :  now  they  were  necessitated  to  turn  homewards. 
They  were  already  on  short  alloAvance,  and  had  bai'ely  enough  to 
last  three  days.  Nothing  Avas  to  be  gained  by  cruising  longer, 
at  this  period  of  the  year ;  the  best  thing  they  could  do  was  to 
return  to  England,  for,  if  any  intelligence  was  to  be  had,  it  would, 
of  course,  be  known  there  lirst. 

Reluctantly,  but  with  speed,  they  returned.  It  was  not  until 
safe  in  Cowes  harbor  that  their  captain  gave  voice  to  his  fears. 

"  I  never  thought  to  see  Cowes  again.  If  this  had  not  been  a 
wonderful  little  boat,  Ave  should  none  of  us  have  seen  this  spot 
again." 

"  Have  we  been  in  such  danger,  then?  " 

"  Never  nearer  oar  last  end  more  than  once,  my  Lord." 

"  And  '  the  Marguerite?'  " 

The  captain  shook  his  head. 

"  How,  you  do  not  think  she  has  been  in  danger?  Remember 
her  size." 

"  I  have  been  scanning  the  harbor,  my  Lord,  the  last  hour, 
and  I  can  see  nothing  like  her." 

"  But  did  you  expect  her  back  in  port?" 

*'  Ay,  my  Lord  !  if  it  was  but  a  pet  that  took  Sir  Harold  off, 
he  Avould  have  returned  ere  this,  with  such  a  parcel  of  ladies  on 
board.     Remember,  it  blew  a  gale  eveiy  day  Ave  have  been  out." 

"  'Tis  true,  Ave  have  had  shocking  Aveather." 

"  I  did  not  think  to  tell  you  my  suspicions,  my  Lord,  until  I 

Avas  sure  she  had  not  returned  to  harbor,  but "  He  paused. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  Thursday  night  Avhen  Ave  Avere  so  nearly 
lost  ourselves  ?  " 

"  I  do." 

"  And  the  vessel  that  burned  the  blue  lights  so  long,  ere  she 
finally  heeled  over,  and  Avas  SAvallowed  up?  " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  You  Avent  beloAv,  my  Lord,  unable  to  bear  the  sight.  I  heard 
Avomen's  shrieks  amid  the  gusts  of  the  Avind  and  the  roar  of 
waters  ;  you  remember,  Mr.  Herbert,  Ave  nev^er  sighted  the  ship 
well,  and  I  told  you  then  she  Avas  more  like  the  vessel  we  Avanted 
than  any  I  had  yet  seen,  as  far  as  I  could  judge." 


208  MARGARET 

"  Nay,  nay,  for  Heaven's  sake  forbear  !  in  mercy  speak  no 
more  !  " 

"  Well,  well,  if  any  of  the  party  are  at  home,  which  they  ouijht 
to  be  by  now,  or  heard  of,  for  few  ladies  would  have  staid  out 
this  fortnight,  all  is  right." 

"NVith  a  dread  fear  knocking  at  their  hearts,  they  hastened 
ashore.  Not  one  of  all  the  ill-fated  crew  of  "  the  Marguerite  " 
had  been  even  heard  of  since  they  departed. 

There  were  letters  from  Milliceut,  and  Lady  Katherine,  Avith 
the  joyful  news  that  JNIargaret  was  out  of  danger,  and  had  had  a 
letter  from  her  Harold,  dated  Jersey. 

Though  to  Basil  and  Gerald  this  gave  no  great  hope,  for  they 
knew  it  must  have  been  written  the  first  trip,  yet  it  seemed  to 
have  had  all  the  effect  of  a  healing  balm  on  the  fair  head  so 
lieavily  tried.  "While  the  penitent  and  self-upbraiding  Lady 
Katlu'rinc  Avrote  imploring  letters  for  pardon  to  Harold,  and  slie 
besought  Gerald's  and  Lord  Erlscourt's  kind  oflices  to  obtain  it 
from  her  injured  i^on. 

They  did  not  dare  to  write  in  answer.  It  Avas  less  pain  to 
leave  them  still  in  ignorance,  than  to  dash  their  confiding  hopes 
with  suspicion. 

They  returned  to  the  "  Ripple."  The  captain  had  not  been 
idle  either  in  his  inquiries,  and  his  face  showed  but  too  cori'ectly 
how  his  fears  predominated. 

"  You  see,  my  Lord,  everything  tells  against  our  wishes.  She 
had  but  little  coal  on  board,  and  it  is  the  worst  of  those  vessels, 
half  one  thing,  and  half  another,  in  cases  of  emergency,  sail  and 
steam  are  both  wanted  ;  for  she  is  but  half-rigged,  on  account  of 
relying  on  her  screw.  Thus,  if  slie  drifted  on  to  the  sands,  her 
sails  would  be  of  little  use  to  get  a  craft  of  tluit  size  oft'  the  cur- 
rent-way, and  unless  she  could  use  her  screw,  her  fate  would  be 
inevitable.  A  handy,  sharp  captain  would  burn  everything  he 
could  lay  hands  on  to  keep  her  going,  even  if  he  gutted  the  ship  ; 
but  I  can  learn  no  good  tidings  of  tlie  captain  of  '  the  Marguerite.' 
If  he  is  not  a  shore-going  captain,  he  is  even  something  worse, 
(iod  might  have  bcou  merciful  and  spared  her ;  luit  all  that 
Thursday  night  nothing  could  hinder  me  from  thinking  that  the 
very  vessel  we  were  pursuing  at  the  risk  of  our  lives,  Avas  sinking, 
almost  within  hail,  into  these  terrible  rpiicksands." 

"  Droadlul  ! — this  is  too  horrible  to  think  of!"  exclaimed 
Gerald. 

"  Something  must  be  done,"  said  Basil.  "I  cannot  live  on 
here  witli  such  a  load  on  my  heart,  and  do  nothing.  Advise  us, 
captain." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  209 

"Advise,  my  Lord  —  what  can  I  say  ?  Time  will  only  tell  the 
tale." 

"  We  must  return,  then,  and  visit  those  sand  banks  ;  a  trace 
may  be  found,  a  something  to  show  that  we  must  hope  no  more." 

"  We  might  do  that,"  mused  the  captain.  "  We  must  hire  a 
strong  steamer." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Basil,  eagerly  ;  "do  it  to-day." 

"  And  you,  Gerald,  will  return  home  ;  one  ot"  us  must  be  on 
the  spot,  if — if " 

Uncontrollable  emotion  overcame  them  both. 

By  night-time  Basil  was  gone  in  a  stout  steam-tug,  accompa- 
nied by  the  captain  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  Gerald  took  his 
mournful  journey  home. 

It  was  well  he  had  but  Millicent  to  encounter  at  first.  To  her 
he  told  the  history  of  their  perilous  and  fruitless  voyage  ;  to  her 
he  whispered  the  direful  suspicions  of  the  fate  of  "  the  Mar- 
guerite." 

"  It  will  kill  them  !  —  it  will  kill  them  both  !  "  cried  the  ten- 
der Millicent,  wringing  her  hands.  "  O  God,  avert  from  my 
Margaret  a  blow  so  heavy  !  And  Lady  Katherine,  Gerald  !  — 
when  she  knows  it  was  her  letter  —  when  she  feels  it  was  her 
doing  —  ah,  merciful  Heaven,  spare  us  '  —  spare  us  !  " 

It  was  fortunate  that  Margaret  was  still  too  ill  to  see  Gerald ; 
nevertheless,  as  another  fortnight  passed,  and  still  no  tidings, 
and  Lady  Katherine  and  Pru.  detailed  how  ill  was  Gerald,  how 
altered,  and  wretched,  Mai-garet  felt  a  shock.  The  suspicion 
grew  strong  —  he  knew  more  than  she  did. 

As  if  by  accident,  she  caused  herself  to  be  carried  into  the 
room,  when  he  came  to  make  his  daily  inquiries.  One  look  was 
sufficient. 

"  You  know  more  than  you  tell  us,  Gerald  :  speak  !  " 

It  was  impossible  to  resist.  Life  and  death  seemed  depend- 
ent on  the  command.     He  hesitated,  faltered,   and  grew  white. 

"  Tell  her  all,"  said  Millicent ;  "  it  must  be  told  soon." 

To  Margaret's  well-disciplined  mind  there  seemed  at  once  a 
clew  given  her  to  a  mystery  she  could  not  otherwise  clear  up. 
Her  heart  had  mourned  cruelly  over  the  fact  that  Harold  must 
have  known  how  near  her  hour  of  danger  was,  and  yet  had  suf- 
fered a  mouth  to  elapse  without  making  the  slightest  inquiry 
after  her.  With  joyful  alacrity  she  welcomed  the  dispersion  of 
this  most  harrowing  fact,  and  forgetting  Lady  Katherine's  pres- 
ence, said,  quickly,  "Ah,  yes!  my  Harold  was  suspected, 
accused,  upbraided  :  he  will  not  return  until  fully  acquitted." 
18* 


210  MARGARET 

"  0  Marprarct,  Margaret,  iipbraid  mc  not ! "  cried  the  poor 
mother.     "  I  have  k>st  my  son  —  my  only  son,  Harold  !  " 

'•  What  said  you  in  the  letter,  mother?"  asked  Margaret. 

Between  sobs  and  tears  Lady  Katherine  gave  them  a  descrip- 
tion of  its  contents. 

INIargarct  sighed  deeply  as  the  harsh  and  unnatural  sentences 
smote  on  her  ear.  "No  wonder  —  no  Avonder  that  he  comes 
not,  for  he  did  not  receive  mine  !  " 

"  No,"  answered  Gerald.  "  I  left  it  at  the  post-office,  Cowes. 
If  I  had  done  that  at  first,  Harold  would  have  received  both 
together." 

"  It  is  fatality,"  said  INIargaret.  But  Lady  Katherine's  nerves 
gave  way ;  she  could  bear  up  no  longer  against  her  painful 
thoughts  ;  and  falling  into  hysterics,  had  a  practical  illustration 
of  the  sort  of  demon  that  had  possessed  poor  Pru.  on  her  sister's 
wedding-day. 

Another  fortnight  passed.  Like  the  pale  being  of  another 
world,  Margaret  moved  among  them. 

One  evening  Milliccut  said  to  her  husband,  "  A  shadow  has 
fallen  on  the  window  now  for  the  third  time.  See  !  —  it  is 
Basil !  " 

Gerald  spnmg  out ;  for  a  moment  Basil  turned  away ;  then 
his  face  revealed  the  fatal  truth  ;  but  he  could  not  find  voice  to 
say, — 

"  It  was  even  as  our  captain  said  ;  '  the  Marguerite '  perished 
on  that  Thursday  night,  Avithin  hail  of  us,  and  not  a  soul  on 
board  survived  her." 

AVho  was  to  tell  the  fond  wife,  the  loving  Margaret?  They 
sat  all  three  through  the  night,  wondering  how  it  was  to  be  done, 
and,  as  the  morning  dawned,  they  wondered  still. 

"  AVc  must  go  to  Rose  Leigh  first,"  was  all  that  Millicent 
could  advise.  "  We  must  not  care  for  the  shock  it  may  be  to 
Lady  Katherine,  for,  by  that  means  only,  can  Ave  hope  Marga- 
ret Avill  exert  herself." 

"  You  are  right,  Milly,"  said  her  brother.  "  That  SAveet, 
gentle  spirit  Avill  calm  her  OAvn  sorroAv,  nut  to  add  by  a  single 
])ang  to  one  deservedly  afllicted." 

Tliey  entered  the  drawing-room  at  Rose  Leigh  ;  Lady  Kathe- 
rine Avas  moving  restlessly  about,  as  Avas  her  habit  Avithin  the 
last  few  Aveeks.  Basil  laid  down  before  her,  Avitliout  a  Avord,  a 
glove  saturated  Avith  suit  Avater,  a  neekerchief  impreguated  Avith 
sand,  part  of  a  coat  Avith  the  seaweed  yet  on  it. 

"  I  found  thec-e,"  he  said,  sloAvly,  "  on  a  sand  bank  off  the 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  211 

coast  of  Holland,  with  many  other  things  ;  did  they  belong  to 
your  son  or  no  ?  " 

With  a  cry  that  pierced  the  air  with  its  agony,  Lady  Kathe- 
rine  caught  up  the  Avell-known  neckerchief;  one  shriek  followed 
another  in  quick  succession,  mixed  with  piteous  cries  for  her 
son.  A  wild  and  frantic  spirit  seemed  to  possess  her,  and, 
alarmed  for  her  life  or  reason,  Basil  was  about  to  speak.  But 
as  he  looked  up,  a  vision  at  the  window  appalled  him.  Uncon- 
scious that  she  was  entering  at  the  window,  as  he  placed  the  sad 
mementoes  of  her  drowned  Harold  before  his  mother's  eyes,  he 
knew  not  that  Margaret  saw  it  all.  Lady  Katherine's  eyes  fol- 
lowed his. 

"  He  is  dead,  drowned,  and  I  murdered  him  !  I,  his  mother, 
murdered  my  son  —  my  only  son  !  AAvay  !  —  look  not  at  me  ! 
—  touch  me  not !  " 

The  white,  stricken  vision  came  swiftly  to  the  frantic  mother, 
and  put  her  arms  I'ound  her. 

"  Mother,"  said  the  Ioav,  sad  voice,  "  if  our  Harold  is  dead  he 
is  safe  with  God." 


CHAPTER    LII. 

After  Philip's  determination  not  to  let  Lotty  go  to  Margaret, 
a  change  came  over  liis  wife.  She  neither  sang  nor  laughed, 
and  she  never  voluntarily  spoke  to  him. 

"  No  matter,"  thought  he,  "  I  will  tame  her  yet." 

When  the  three  months  were  over,  he  settled  that  they  should 
go  from  town  to  toAvn,  and  place  to  place,  until  he  could  fix 
upon  a  convenient  spot  in  which  to  winter. 

The  grief  of  Aimee,  Gerard,  and  Babette  was  loud  and  shrill. 
The  angel  child  was  about  to  leave  them ;  nothing  would  pros- 
per with  them  again. 

Lotty  comforted  the  old  woman  as  well  as  she  could,  and 
her  last  v/ords  Avere,  "  We  hope  to  reach  the  same  heaven, 
Aimee  ;  Ave  may  meet  there." 

"  God  and  the  Holy  Virgin  grant  it !  "  said  Aimee  ;  and  for 
fear  she  should  not  be  worthy  to  meet  the  child-angel  in  heaven, 
mother  Aimee  mended  her  Avays  and  speech  considerably,  and 
gi'CAV  a  kind-hearted,  respected  old  dame. 


212  MARGARET 

Philip,  at  last,  settled  that  Horaberg  should  be  their  winter 
residence.  He  had  been  there  before,  for  a  year  or  two,  had 
indulged  in  some  excitemeut  at  the  gaming  tables,  and  had  made 
a  few  disreputable  acquaiutancL's. 

It  Avas  lieie  Lotty  sliould  undergo  hor  last  trial,  as  Philip 
thought.  fShe  always  wrote  once  a  week  to  her  relations  ;  Philip 
liad  at  first  remonstrated  upon  this,  but  she  said  quietly,  "•  If  I 
don't  write,  a  tribe  of  Beauvillians  will  take  fliglit  after  us." 

He  felt  the  truth  of  this.  Once  or  twice  ho  had  the  meanness 
to  read  her  letters,  especially  that  one  he  found  open  on  her  desk 
when  he  returned  from  his  feigned  journey  to  Kugland.  He 
was  properly  punislied,  whenever  he  did  so,  by  finding  his  name 
not  even  mentioned  in  them.  Nothing  but  happy,  innocent 
details  of  her  life  ;  what  she  and  Bear  did  and  saw. 

Philip  knew  Lotty  did  not  like  being  shut  up  in  a  town,  so  he 
took  a  house  in  a  dirty  street ;  and  knowing  that  she  would  not 
venture  out  after  her  early  morning  walk,  he  always  left  her  as 
soon  as  she  came  in,  to  go  to  the  gaming  tables,  from  whence 
he  returned  at  all  hours. 

Lotty  never  complained.  She  and  Bear  seemed  to  be  leading 
very  comfortable  lives,  l^liilip  said  he  had  lost  a  great  deal  of 
nioney,  and  could  not  atlord  this,  that,  and  the  other  ;  so  they 
dill  without,  not  he  at  least,  for  he  had  all  the  luxuries  he  re- 
quired at  the  cafes ;  only  Bear  and  Lotty  were  put  on  such  short 
commons  that  Philij)  found  out  Lotty  spent  her  hours  in  draw- 
ing, and  disj)Oscd  of  them  to  get  food. 

O  loving  Beauvillians  !  if  you  had  but  seen  your  girl,  all 
the  milk  of  human  kindness  flowuig  so  generously  from  your 
large  hearts,  would  have  turned  at  once  into  a  lake  of  burning 
indignation. 

One  day  at  a  gaming  table  Philip's  ears  were  attracted  by  the 
conversation  of  a  French  count  and  a  (Jermau  baron. 

"  Always  attended  by  a  large  bloodhound,"  were  the  words  he 
heard. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Baron,  "  and  her  eyes  lustrous  arc  as  stars  ; 
but  she  is  very  pttlte  —  a  child." 

"  I  spoke  to  her,"  said  the  Count,  "and  as  she  answered 
politely  to  my  (incstioii  concerning  the  road,  I  thought  to  pursue 
my  a<lvantag(:  ;  l)iiL  when  she  found  my  jjurpose,  those  lustrous 
eyes  fiashed,  and  she  said  'Bar,'  and  tlie  great  hound  came,  his 
bristles  all  erect,  and  his  fangs  exposed.  Mafol!  it  needed  but 
that  cliild's  voice,  and  I  sliould  have  been  minced." 

"■  Ha,  ha!  "  said  the  Baron,  ''  afraid  of  the  liound  ;   I  should 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  213 

have   kicked  him,   and  sent  him  howling ;    but   is    she   not  a 
child?" 

"  No,  no  child  ;  a  queen  could  not  have  looked  more  stately." 

"  I  shall  meet  her  to-morrow,"  said  the  Baron  ;  "  her  beauty- 
is  surprising  —  but  such  an  hour  !  I  must  go  straight  from  here 
to  be  early  enough." 

Philip  went  home  boiling  Avith  rage.  He  poured  out  his  anger 
and  disgust  to  Lotty,  demanding  why  she  had  not  told  him. 

"  I  cannot  lose  my  early  walk,  and  if  it  is  supposed  that  I  live 
here  with  no  protector  but  my  dog,  is  that  my  fault,  Philip  ?  " 

"  It  is  your  fault ;  you  drive  me  from  you  because  you  will 
not  love  me  as  I  wish." 

"  Do  you  try  to  make  me  love  you,  Philip?" 

"  If  you  do  not  love  me,"  said  he,  evasively,  "  you  shall  fear 
me. 

"  Fear  !  "  said  Lotty,  her  slight  figure  drawn  up,  her  lip  curl- 
ing in  scorn. 

"  Do  you  dare  me?"  he  said  fiercely. 

She  did  not  answei*. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  I  cannot  make  you  fear  me?" 

"  I  fear  but  one  thing  in  the  world." 

"And  Avhat  is  that?" 

"  That  I  may  not  do  my  duty." 

He  could  not  but  believe  her ;  truth  spoke  in  every  gesture. 
At  last  he  said  sullenly,  "  If  you  Avalk  out  betAveen  four  and 
six  in  the  public  and  most  frequented  Avalks,  I  Avill  take  care  to 
be  there  also,  either  Avith  you  or  near  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Philip." 

He  meant  but  to  try  her  still. 

Attended  by  her  dog,  she  Avent.  Philip  Avas  there  before  her, 
talking  loudly  and  gayly  to  a  very  handsome  FrenchAvoman. 
Lotty  passed  quietly  on,  AA'alking  from  one  shaded  Avalk  to 
the  other,  attracting  cA^ery  eye,  but  not  seeming  to  care  for  it ; 
Bear,  Avith  discreet  tail  and  ears,  walking  in  a  stately  manner 
by  her. 

After  her  walk,  when  they  reached  home,  they  had  a  long 
conference  together,  and  mutually  agreed  that  the  change  Avas 
A'ery  disagreeable. 

"  It  is  sad.  Bear,  that  Ave  are  not  still  in  the  forest,  that  Ave 
may  not  run  about  and  do  as  we  like,  Avithout  so  many  eyes  upon 
us  ;  still  we  are  not  so  sad  as  Queen  Margaret.  Ah  !  if  Ave  Avere 
Avith  her.  Bear,  avc  should  not  care  for  rude  eyes  and  hard  fare. 
We  should  think  of  nothing  but  her.     At  all  events,  Bear,  you 


214  MARCxARET 

agree  with  me  still ;  It's  better  to  be  poor  Lotty  and  dull  Bear 
than  Carry  or  Flo.  So  we  will  write  agaiu  to  sweet  Meg,  aud 
comfort  ourselves." 

Again  Lotty  and  Bear  went  out  to  the  public  Avalks,  as  Philip 
had  ordered,  at  the  hour  he  appointed,  aud  agaiu  he  appeared 
with  the  handsome  Frenchwonuin. 

Lotty  aud  Bear  to-day  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  good  old 
bonne,  and  her  merry  children.  Bear  did  a  Avouderful  amount 
of  tricks  to  amuse  them. 

So  that  on  the  tliird  day  they  proceeded  to  the  public  walks  in 
rather  better  si)irits  —  fhey  h()])ed  to  meet  their  friends  again. 
The  old  bonne's  face  beamed  with  ])leasure  as  she  saw  the  little 
figure  with  the  great  Bear  appear.  She  took  her  for  a  child, 
and  became  so  familiar  as  to  say,  "Always,  mon  enfant,  come 
and  place  yourself  under  my  care  —  I  will  be  your  bonne." 

So  Lotty  aud  Bear  enjoyed  themselves,  riiilip  was  invari- 
ably there  ;  and  though  Lotty  attracted  great  attention,  nothing 
had  occurred  to  call  forth  any  interference  on  his  part  as  her 
natural  protector.  Besides,  since  she  had  placed  herself  under 
the  surveillance  of  the  good  bonne,  many  people  imagined  she 
Avus  the  proper  charge  of  the  Avorthy  creature. 

"  One  day,"  said  the  bonne  to  Lotty,  "  I  overheard,  mon  en- 
fant, those  two  talking,  that  lady  aud  the  English  gentleman. 
The  lady  is  going  to  speak  to  you  the  first  opportunity,  and 
make  your  acquaintance.  Jlfa  chere,  you  must  not  permit  it ;  she 
is  not  for  such  as  you  to  speak  to.  She  is  Madame  La  Luce, 
very  Avicked  and  bad,  for  all  her  handsome  ai)pearance.  That 
young  Englishman  is  infatuated  ;  he  will  be  ruined." 

Tlie  good  bonne  little  imagined  she  was  speaking  to  the  wife 
of  the  doomed  Englishman. 

After  her  warning,  Lotty  became  aAvare  that  Philip  Avas  trying 
to  meet  her,  in  one  of  the  Avalks  by  herself,  for  the  purpose  of 
speaking  to  her  ;  Madame  La  J^uce  being  Avith  him. 

She  avoided  the  rencontre  Avith  such  skill,  that  at  last  Philip 
eitlier  grcAv  impatient,  or  the  lady  taunted  him,  for  he  advanced 
to  Lotty  alone  one  evening,  Avhen  she  Avas  Avalking  Avith  the 
good  bonne. 

"  Lotty,  I  Avish  you  to  come  Avith  me." 

"  For  Aviiat  ])urpose,  I'liilip?" 

"  I  Avish  to  inlruiUice  you  to  a  lady,  a  friend  of  mine.  She  is 
in  the  next  Avalk." 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  I  do  not  wish  the  introduction." 

"I  command  it,"  said  Philip,  passionately. 


AND    HER    BRroESMAIDS.  215 

"And  I  disobey,"  said  Lotty. 

She  passed  on  with  the  old  bonne,  leaving  him  in  a  whirlwind 
of  emotion. 

Did  she  know  whom  Madame  La  Luce  was  ?  Could  she  be 
jealous?  If  so,  his  purpose  was  accomplished;  his  last  trial 
successful.     He  trod  on  air  at  the  thought. 

"Jioji  enfant,  the  Englishman  knows  you,"  said  the  bonne. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Your  brother,  ma  chere  9  " 

*'  No,  my  husband." 

"  0,  mon  Dieu  !  0,  misericorde  !  0,  mon  enfant  !  jamais. 
JETelas  !  jamais.  Jamais  je  ne  Vaurai  cru.  Ah!  Mary,  mother 
of  God,  this  child,  this  petite,  cliarmante  enfant !  A.h !  ma 
chere,  mon  ange,  que  je  suis  miserable  I " 

Lotty  tried  to  bring  her  old  friend  to  some  little  reason  ;  but 
as  there  was  no  possibility  of  getting  her  out  of  her  state  of  sur- 
prise and  consternation,  she  returned  home. 

Lotty  had  not  been  there  long  before  the  waiters  from  a  res- 
taurateur's came  to  the  house,  and  prepared  to  lay  dinner  for 
three.  In  a  little  while  a.  fiacre  drove  to  the  door,  from  whence 
Philip  handed  Madame  La  Luce. 

Lotty  was  sitting  in  a  sort  of  child's  attitude  in  a  large,  old, 
carved  chair,  her  curls  in  an  unusually  disordered  state  ;  but  so 
pictviresquely  did  they  fall,  that  notliing  could  exceed  the  pretti- 
ness  of  the  picture.  She  had  been  having  a  serious  conversation 
with  Bear,  and  perhaps,  in  the  heat  of  the  argument,  if  they  had 
arrived  at  one,  Lotty  had  resorted  to  the  Beauvillian  habit  of 
running  her  finirers  throuo-h  her  hair.  Bear's  fine  head  was 
resting  on  the  arm  of  the  chair,  and  his  loving  eyes  Avere  saying 
all  sorts  of  things  to  his  little  mistress.  The  door  opened,  and 
Philip  led  in  Madame  La  Luce. 

"  Lotty,  I  M'ish  to  introduce  you  to  Madame  La  Luce. 
Madame,  my  wife,  Mrs.  Leigh." 

Lotty  looked  up,  and  Madame  made  an  elaborate  courtesy. 
She  was  about  to  speak,  when  Philip  said  quickly, — 

"Lotty,  do  you  not  hear?  —  greet  your  visitor;  she  dines 
with  us  to-day." 

Lotty  rose  from  the  chair,  and,  without  taking  the  smallest 
notice  of  either  of  them,  called  to  Bear,  and  left  the  room  with 
him. 

Philip  looked  in  her  face  as  she  passed.  There  was  no  look 
of  jealous  anger,  no  passion,  no  feeling  —  nothing  but  an  expres- 
sion of  calm  contempt. 


216  MARGARET 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  "  cried  Madame  La  Lnoe,  "U'ith  the  hissing  tone  of 
a  Avomaa  iii  a  rage  ;  "  is  this  jour  baby  -wile  ?  hcin  ;  but  Ave  are 
the  tragedy  queeu  !  Small  indeed  !  but  a  soul,  ha  !  ha  !  a  soul 
60  large,  Monsieur  Philip,  so  big,  you  cannot  have  control  of 
that  soul.     He  have  baby  -wile,  but  she  cry  loudest." 

Madame  La  Lticc  avouUI  have  continued  darting  forth  her 
fiery  stings  at  Philip,  had  she  not  seen  that  he  was  white  with 
passion. 

"  I  will  make  her  return,"  he  said  ;  "  remain,  Madame  —  she 
shall  return  and  apologize." 

As  Philip  bounded  up  the  stairs  to  his  Avife's  room,  he  had  no 
feeling  in  his  heart  but  that  she  should  obey  him.  As  he  entered 
the  room,  Lotty  was  putting  on  her  walking-dress. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Away,"  said  Lotty. 

"  You  shall  not !  "  and  he  grasped  her  arm. 

"  Bear  !  "  said  Lotty.  The  noble  hound  sprung  to  her  side  ; 
and  as  Philip  relaxed  his  hold,  he  knew  by  the  fiery  eyes  and 
swift,  brusliing  tail,  Bear  was  in  no  mood  to  be  trifled  with. 

"  How  can  you  be  so  foolish,  Lotty?  I  l)ring  a  lady  to  make 
your  acquaintance,  and  you  conduct  yourself  in  this  manner  !  " 

"  She  is  not  the  person  a  husband  usually  introduces  to  a 
wife." 

"  You  are  jealous,  Lotty." 

Ah  !  if  she  would  but  allow  it,  he  would  lay  himself  at  her 
feet  for  forgiveness,  and  be  licr  slave  forcAcr. 

She  did  not  answer  ;  she  only  looked  at  him.  It  was  enough  : 
never  did  look  express  such  contempt  at  the  supposition. 

"  How  know  you  she  is  the  pr-rson  you  mean?" 

"  If  you  can  deny  it,  I  am  willing  to  believe  you." 

He  did  not  dare  to  do  so  ;  she  looked  so  pure  and  childlike  in 
her  reproving  Avay. 

"  Come,  Lotty,  she  shall  go  if  you  do  not  like  her ;  forget 
this,  and  I  will  send  her  away." 

"  A  Beauvilliers  will  submit  to  everything  but  insult.  You 
have  insulted  me,  both  as  a  wife  and  a  woman.  I  have  borne 
everything  else,  and  dune  my  duty  to  you  as  fully  as  you  per- 
mitted me.  Now  I  am  free.  Farewell,  Philip  Leigh  !  I  go  to 
my  own  people.     Once  more  I  am  Charlotte  Beauvilliers." 

Sin-  did  not  mean  to  triuuij)h  ;  she  ilid  not  intend  to  hurt  his 
feelings  ;  but  there  Avas  such  an  unconscious  deliglit  as  she  spoke 
of  going  to  her  people,  such  an  air  of  charmed  freedom  as 
she    uttered  her   maiden   name,  that  Philip   Leigh   fell   to   the 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  217 

ground,  smitten,  crushed,  with  the  conviction  in  his  heart  slie 
was  lost  to  him  forever  —  and  that  it  was  the  work  of  his  own 
hands. 

She  glanced  at  him  as  he  lay  gasping  on  the  floor. 

"Bear,  be  good  —  Philip  is  ill." 

Bear  laid  down  by  Philip's  side  on  the  floor,  his  watchful,  ex- 
cited air  giving  place  to  a  calm,  steadfast  gaze  on  Lotty.  She 
raised  Philip's  head,  his  eyes  Avere  closed ;  she  could  see  the 
violent  beatings  of  his  heart,  as  it  heaved  the  coat  up  and  down. 
His  struggles  for  breath  Avere  fearful. 

"  Ringlhe  bell.  Bear." 

The  obedient  dog  obeyed. 

"Go  for  a  doctor  —  Mr.  Leigh  is  very  ill,"  she  said,  as  the 
servant  answered. 

Madame  La  Luce,  AA'ondering,  it  is  supposed,  at  the  commo- 
tion up  stairs,  or  at  Mr.  Leigh's  absence,  now  made  her  appear- 
ance at  the  door,  asking,  in  her  sharp,  broken  English,  — 

"What  is  de  matter?" 

"  Mr.  Leigh  is  ill,  Madame,"  said  Lotty,  calmly. 

"  0,  mon  Dieii,  il  est  mort!"  said  she,  screaming. 

"Pray,  Madame,  calm  yourself — your  cries  make  him  worse." 

With  a  mighty  gasp,  that  made  Philip's  Avords  fall  from  his 
mouth  Avith  startling  distinctness,  he  said,  "  Go,  Avoman  !  " 

"  You  go,  my  dear.     I  hold  Mr.  Leigh  ;  he  have  my  care." 

"  He  meant  you,  Madame,"  said  Lotty,  calmly. 

"  Mon  Dieu !  no,  he  adore  me  ;  he  Avish  me  by  his  side  ;  he 
old  bon  friend." 

Here  Pliilip's  efforts  to  speak  became  agonizing. 

"Bear,"  said  Lotty,  "turn  her  out." 

Nothing  loth.  Bear  proceeded  to  perform  his  orders  with  so 
much  good  Avill  and  alacrity,  that  Madame  fled  shrieking  down 
the  stairs,  and  flying  into  the  draAving-room,  sank  into  the  first 
chair  that  came  to  hand.  Bear  folloAved  ;  his  Ioav,  sharp  groAvls 
and  snapping  jaAvs  sounded  and  looked  aAvful.  But  to  those 
who  kneAv  him,  there  Avas  a  good-humored  sort  of  chuckle  in 
his  eyes,  that  plainly  shoAved  he  meant  to  be  quite  the  gentle- 
man in  all  he  did,  and  that  he  Avas  enjoying  the  fun  greatly. 

He  walked  with  stately  and  solemn  step  into  the  draAving- 
room  after  Madame,  and  rearing  his  huge  proportions  against 
the  door,  he  shut  it  like  any  other  gentleman.  Then,  choosing 
a  convenient  spot  before  the  door,  he  laid  himself  down,  in  a 
calm  sort  of  contemptuous  mood,  and  Madame  saw  she  Avas  a 
prisoner, 

19 


218  .  MARGARET  ., 

Though  she  might  have  done  deeds  >vorthy  of  a  prison,  it 
never  entered  into  her  CDiUoniphitloiis  that  her  gaoler  would  pre- 
sent to  her  the  appearance  of  the  present  one.  The  thought  of 
hysterics  had  occurred  to  her,  but  possibly  her  struuge  keeper 
niiglit  take  measures  to  bring  her  round,  never  mentioned  in  the 
annab  of  physic,  Avhich  would  prove  something  so  frightfully 
out  of  the  common  as  to  be  her  death. 

So  she  sat  trembling  in  her  chair,  vowing  and  protesting  to 
herself  that  her  old  admirer,  who  adored  her,  should  adore  at  a 
distance,  for  never  again  would  she  encounter  the  glance  of  tho 
child-wife's  eyes,  or  the  jaws  of  lior  brute,  "  si  cffroynhle"  if 
once  she  escaped  fi'om  the  contiguity  of  either.  Never  was 
woman  in  such  a  predicament ;  unable  to  shriek,  to  speak,  to 
scold,  not  daring  to  move,  she  sat  through  what  she  thought  a 
lifetime  of  horrors.  Once,  and  once  only,  with  stealthy,  slow 
movement,  did  she  put  o>it  her  hand  to  reach  the  bell-rope. 

Just  as  she  thouglit  she  grasped  it,  a  short,  sharp  growl  of 
intense  anger  made  her  spring  out  of  her  chair  with  fright,  and 
fall  into  it  again  with  fear.  She  could  just  see  Bear,  and  after 
this  mark  of  his  qualities  as  a  gaoler,  he  Avas  quietly  licking  his 
paws.  Lotty  would  have  said  he  was  trying  to  hide  a  smirk 
of  gratified  irony,  that  came  over  his  grim  countenance  ;  but 
Madame  saw  nothing  but  "  une  hele  tjjroyahle." 

Various  noises  wei-e  heard  up  stairs,  running,  calling,  and 
every  sign  of  a  dark  and  momentous  time. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  all  was  quiet,  and  Bear  seemed  to 
know  that  something  pleasant  was  coming,  for  he  raised  himself, 
his  huge  tail  went  to  and  fro,  making  a  breeze  quite  refreshing 
to  the  half-sick  Madame.  His  eyes  assumed  a  loving,  fond  look, 
and  !i3  tlie  door  opened  he  made  way. 

"  Have  you  behaved  like  a  gentleman.  Bear?"  said  the  young 
girl,  as  she  entered. 

Bear  rose  up  to  his  full  height,  and  putting  a  paw  on  each 
shoulder,  looked  an  unmistakable  "yes"  into  Lotty's  eyes, 
^ladame  shrieked,  Lotty  kissed  him  between  the  eyes  and  said, 
"  Good  Bear  !  "  Then  with  a  manner  so  dignified  and  courte- 
ous that  Madame  La  Luce's  bold  eyes  drooped  before  hers, 
she  said,  "Mr.  Leigh  is  better,  Madame  —  would  you  like  a 
fiacref" 

"  I  wish  to  see  him,"  said  Madame  La  Luce,  with  poor 
effrontery. 

"  The  doctor  is  there,  Madame,  and  he  is  shortly  coming  here 
to  write  a  prescription." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  219 

The  fact  that  this  girl,  in  her  woman's  delicacy,  should  try 
to  spare  Madame  La  Luce  the  shame  of  being  found  in  a  mar- 
ried man's  house,  awoke  no  corresponding  feeling  in  that  hard- 
ened breast. 

It  was  nothina:  to  her — she  had  no  shame  left;  she  Avould 
brave  it  out,  if  only  to  hurt  the  English  wife's  feeling. 

"  I  shall  stay  to  see  M.,  the  doctor,  to  hear  his  opinion." 

"  As  you  please,  Madame  ;  come  Bear."  And  they  left  the 
room  without  further  notice  of  Madame.  She  was  rejoiced  at 
the  absence  of  her  strange  gaoler,  but  she  wished  she  had  it  in 
her  power  to  daunt  that  small,  proud  girl,  if  but  for  a  moment. 
It  required  all  the  effrontery  and  boldness  she  possessed  to  face 
the  doctor's  astonishment  when  he  saw  her. 

He  was  a  Scotchman,  but  had  been  settled  in  Homberg  many 
years.  The  servant  had  called  him  instead  of  a  German  doctor, 
thinking  the  lodgers  would  prefer  their  own  countryman,  espe- 
cially the  little  young  wife,  who  had  made  her  way  into  their 
hearts  by  many  acts  such  as  Lotty  was  well  versed  in. 

Mr.  Laird  knew  Madame  La  Luce  well  by  sight  and  reputa- 
tion. 

"  You  here,  Madame  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Monsieur  ;   how  is  your  patient?" 

""Who  is  that  young  girl  up  stairs,  then?" 

"  I  know  not,  Monsieur." 

"  Ay,  I  kenned  she  was  owre  young  for  his  wife,"  said  the 
doctor,  musingly." 

"How  is  M.  Leigh?" 

"  Vara  ill,  Madame,  and  no  fit  for  company  like  yours.  Tak 
my  advice,  and  gang  yer  wavs." 

"  I  am  going,  M.  le  Docteur  !  I  but  wait  to  hear  of  my  old 
friend,  M.  Leigh  —  he  adore  me." 

"  He'll  no  adore  ye  long  then.  If  the  Lord  sends  nae  better 
symptoms,  he'll  no  leeve  twelve  hours." 

"  0,  mon  Dieu  !  pauvre  M.  Leigh!  I  go,  I  fly  —  make  my 
compliments  to  M.  Leigh.     La  mort  !    0,  c'est  affreuse" 


220  MARGARET 


CHAPTER    LIII. 

When'  Mr.  Laird  reached  his  ovm  house,  late  at  night,  after 
seeing  his  patient  in  a  calm  sleep,  and  the  child,  as  he  called 
her,  sitting  by  his  side,  with  an  old  woman  in  the  room,  whom 
he  had  sent  for  to  assist,  he  fell  into  a  deep  fit  of  musing. 

"  My  word,  Alick,  but  ye  might  awa  to  bed,  if  ye're  gang- 
ing to  sit  mump  like  that." 

Thus  said  Mrs.  Laird,  who  was  also  Scotch,  and  not  of  a 
kindly  temper,  for  she  mourued  over  her  banishment  from  the 
land  of  cakes  and  heather. 

"  Hoot,  Avoman  !  dinna  fash.     I  hae  got  a  new  patient." 

"  Man  or  woman,  Alick?" 

"A  young  man,  and  my  heart  is  wae  aboxit  him  —  I  think 
he'll  die  ;  and  he  is  such  a  fine,  grand,  weel-favored  chiel." 

"  And  wliat's  his  ill,  Alick?" 

"  Heart  complaint,  Janet." 

"  Ay,  me,  what  a  mony  folks  dee  of  that  the  noo,  Alick  !  In 
my  yoimg  days,  heart  complaint  was  joost  a  fit  o'  luve." 

•'  Science  is  mair  skilfu'  noo,  Janet,  and  kens  mony  things 
that  were  aye  hidden  afore." 

"  Is  he  weel  to  do,  Alick?" 

"There  seemed  no  lack,  Janet ;  for  when  I  ca'ed  for  what  I 
wanted,  it  aye  cam  to  my  bond." 

Mr.  Laird  was  very  deep  ;  he  kneAV  poverty  was  a  great  sin 
in  Janet's  eyes  ;  and  as  he  was  plotting  a  scheme  in  his  o\\ti 
mind,  Avliich,  Avilhont  her  consent,  he  knew  could  not  be  done, 
he  was  calling  up  all  liis  craftiness  to  his  aid. 

"And  so  you  think  he'll  dee,  Alick?" 

"  No  tliat,  Janet,  if  I  had  him  niider  my  ain  e'e,  in  the  house 
here  —  he  lias  nane  to  look  after  him." 

"  And  div  ye  think  I'sc  gwan  to  have  a  strange  mou  in  my 
house?"  said  Mrs.  Laird,  Avratlifully,  and  beginning  to  see  the 
Doctor's  drift. 

"  Then  the  puir,  bonny  lad  must  joost  dee.  Madame  La  Luce 
must  nurse  liiin." 

"  WIiu?"  said  Mrs.  Laird,  panic-struck. 

"  Did  no  1  tell  ye  I  fund  that  woman  i'  the  house?" 

"  Deed  o'  goodness,  Alick  !  gang  yer  Avays  in  the  morn,  and 
fetch  him  straight  here.  I  wadna  be  doing  my  duty  as  a  coun- 
trywoman, did  1  leeve  the  bonny  lad  in  her  clutches." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  221 

"  He  is  no  to  say  a  lad,"  said  Mr.  Laird. 
•  But  Mrs.  Laird  was  so  taken  up  Avith  her  own  ideas,  that  she 
did  not  heed  him.  She  had  brought  out  with  her  from  her  na- 
tive land  a  great  deal  of  the  old  Puritan  blood  and  feelings,  for 
which  that  land  is  famous.  The  unrighteous  and  ungodly  pro- 
ceedings of  "foreign  pairts,"  as  she  termed  it,  and  the  peculiarly 
"  awfu' "  state  of  Homberg  in  particular,  had  done  much  to 
increase  her  little  acerbities.  In  railhig  at  them,  she  had 
adopted  a  habit  of  always  railing,  because  her  decorous  mind 
and  strict  ways  were  scarcely  ever  without  an  atFront  on  them. 

Madame  La  Luce,  in  particular,  was  a  never-failing  source 
of  righteous  wrath ;  and  when  everything  went  well  in  the 
house,  —  Mr.  Laird  in  high  favor,  the  maids  all  doing  their 
duty,  —  that  abhorred  and  odious  name  never  failed  to  upset  the 
whole  household,  putting  Mrs.  Laird  into  a  week's  ill-humor. 

"  The  hussie  !  the  ne'er-do-Aveel !  —  ye  tliink  ye'll  hae  yer  ain 
way.  Eh,  Doctor,  but  ye  mun  be  up  in  the  morn,  and  get  him 
RAva',  puir  misguided  lad ! "  exclaimed  she,  at  last,  having 
indulged  in  various  other  remarks  that  would  not  look  Avell  in 
print,  though,  no  doubt,  strictly  true. 

"  There  is  a  bit,  lass,  too,"  began  Mr.  Laird. 

"  Hoot,  man  !  de  ye  think  I  can  fash  mysel'  wi'  ony  more  o* 
your  patients  ?  " 

"  She  is  nae  patient,  Janet.     I  am  thinking  she'll  be  sister  to 

you." 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  naebody  wha  does  their  duty  more 
according  to  the  blessed  commandments  nor  me ;  but  as  for  tak- 
ing in  a'  your  fancies.  Doctor,  I  wunna  !  " 

"  Tlien  I'll  just  gie  this  up,  Janet !  and  I  Avadna  hae  men- 
tioned it  till  ye,  but  I  feared  Madame  La  Luce  might  just  get 
hand  of  the  young  lassie  ;  and  tlien,  puir  bairn " 

"  Gang  yer  Avays,  Doctor,  and  fetch  'em  botli.  I'll  get  the 
blue  room  ready  for  the  lad,  and  the  lass  shall  aye  sleep  in  the 
ema'  chamber  Avithin  my  ain.  I  Avarrant  nae  madames  Avill  get 
at  her  there." 

Dr.  Laird  having  gained  his  ends,  thought  it  prudent  to  say 
nothing  about  the  dog.  As  Madame  La  Luce  could  not  con- 
taminate him,  there  was  no  ruse  by  which  he  could  obtain  a 
consent  for  his  admittance.  He  Avas,  in  reality,  very  anxious  to 
have  his  ncAv  patient  immediately  under  his  OAvn  eye,  not  only 
because  he  feared  that  the  case  was  a  very  bad  one,  but,  being 
in  lodgings,  Madame  La  Luce  might  have  constant  admittance, 
and  keep  his  patient  in  a  state  of  agitation  that  Avould  go  far  to 
19* 


222  MARGARET 

retard  his  onrc  ;  for  he  had  seen  quite  enough  to  know  that  he 
■was  violently  agitated  at  the  bare  mention  of  her  name.  Be- 
sides, his  kind  heart  felt  for  the  little,  lonely  child,  who  had 
showed  such  judgment  and  tact  in  all  she  had  done  to  assist  his 
professional  labors,  and  whose  slight  touch  and  gentle  words 
seemed  to  be  like  balm  to  his  patient.  Also,  the  study  of  a 
heart-disease  Avas  a  peculiar  hobby  of  the  good  doctor's ;  there- 
fore, it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  fell  into  a  brown 
study  in  trying  how  he  could  beguile  Mrs.  Laird  into  his  wishes, 
and  went  to  bed  very  well  satisfied  that  he  had  succeeded. 

On  the  morrow  Philip  was  removed  into  the  doctor's  house, 
with  every  care  and  precaution.  To  do  Mrs.  Laird  justice, 
when  she  made  up  her  mind  to  a  thing,  she  entered  into  every 
detail  of  it,  as  if  the  original  idea  was  her  own,  and  had  for 
some  time  been  her  sole  Avish. 

She  had  routed  up  the  good  doctor  at  peep  of  day ;  she  had 
cleaned,  dusted,  and  tidied  the  blue  room ;  she  had  prepared 
several  little  savory  messes  ;  she  received  Philip  as  her  own  son, 
and,  taking  forcible  possession  of  him,  she  had  him  placed 
between  the  snow-white  homespun  linen  sheets,  and  surrounded 
him  with  everything  fresh  and  clean. 

8he  viewed,  with  great  satisfaction,  his  pale,  Avhite  face 
assume  a  look  of  pleasure  at  the  change  from  the  dismal  lodging 
to  the  cheerful,  sunny  chamber  ;  then,  seeing  him  gaze  anx- 
iously around,  she  said,  — 

"  What  more  Avant  ye?" 

"  Lotty,"  said  Philip,  feebly. 

"  Here,  Philip,"  said  a  voice  outside  ;  and  a  little  fairy  child 
came  and  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

P>eforc  ]\Irs.  Laird  iiad  time  to  recover  her  astonishment,  a 
great  dog  followed,  and  lay  at  her  feet. 

In  her  anxiety  about  Philip,  Mrs.  Laird  had  forgotten  the 
existence  of  the  "  litth;  lass  ;"  but  when  the  hound  followed  and 
laid  himself  down  as  if  he  Avere  perfectly  at  home,  her  Avrath 
overfloAved. 

"And  Avhatten  a  beast  do  you  ca'  that?"  she  said,  Avith  a 
vinegar  aspect,  to  Lotty. 

"  He  is  a  Scotch  bhjodhound,  ma'am,"  she  ansAvered. 

"  Scotch  or  not,  div  ye  think  I'll  allow  such  a  beastie  as  that 
in  my  best  chaiuber?" 

"(io  down,  Jjear,  and  lay  by  the  frunl  (loor  uutil  1  come," 
said  Lotty. 

Bear  got  up,  and  Avilh  a  meek  look  of  supplication  addressed 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  223 

to  Mrs.  Laird,  he  sloAvly  departed,  with  his  tail  in  a  dejected 
and  forlorn  droop. 

Mrs.  Laird  looked  astonished,  but  said  nothing.  She  fol- 
lowed Bear  out,  and  having  apparently  watched  him,  came  back 
with  a  red  face. 

"  What  sort  of  a  dog  is  yon,  that  he  kens  a'  ye  say,  like  ony 
Christian?  "  said  she,  to  Lotty. 

''  He  is  a  veiy  good,  sensible  dog,  ma'am.  I  will  take  care 
he  shall  give  no  trouble,  if  you  will  let  him  remain." 

"  I  maun  judge  for  mysel'  first,  afore  I  mak  rash  promises." 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Weel,  noo,  if  you'll  promise  to  be  good  and  quiet,  ye  may 
stop  with  your  brither  a  bit,  while  I  step  for  a  sup  broth." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am." 

"What's  the  matter  Avi' you,  my  man?"  said  Mrs.  Laird, 
seeing  A  cloud  passing  over  Philip's  face. 

"  She  is  my  wife,"  said  Philip. 

"  The  Lord  be  gude  to  us  all !  — he  is  ravinjr." 

*'  No,  ma'am,"  said  Lotty.  "  I  am  eighteen  years  old 
nearly." 

"  O  doctor,  doctor  !  —  come  yer  ways  ;  here's  a  tale  to  tell !  " 
and  Mrs.  Laird  hurried  out. 


CHAPTER    LIV. 

"Do  you  feel  more  easy,  Philip?  "said  Lotty,  after  Mrs. 
Laird's  abrupt  departure. 

"  Yes,  Lotty  ;  this  room  is  pleasant." 

"  I  must  make  some  arrangements  about  our  lodging  and 
board,  Philip  ;   you  Avould  not  like  to  be  here  on  charity." 

"  No,  no,  of  course  not.  You  will  find  as  much  money  as 
you  Avant  in  my  writing-case." 

"  I  may  use  it  all,  then?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  use  Avhat  you  like,  take  Avhat  you  like  ;  we  can 
pay  liberally,  I  have  enough.     But,  Lotty,  do  not  leave  me." 

"  I  shall  not  while  you  are  ill,  Philip." 

"  Thank  you." 

"  Shall  I  read  to  you,  Philip  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  sit  where  you  are." 


224  MARGARET 

Lotty  did  not  read  long  ;  lor  Mrs.  Laird,  having  recovered  her 
wits,  now  brought  in  the  "•  sup  broth." 

While  administering  it  she  proceeded  to  unburden  her  mind 
of  various  matters,  the  foremost  of  -which  was  the  horror  and 
shock  she  felt,  that  with  a  wife  (though  but  a  child)  he  had  suf- 
fered himself  to  get  entangled  with  Madame  La  Luce. 

Philip's  face  grew  flushed,  and  the  bed-clothes  began  to 
heave. 

''  Ma'am,"  said  Lotty,  "  he  does  not  like  Madame  La  Luce 
any  more  than  you  do." 

*'  At  no  hand  say  her  name,  bairn  ;  it's  no  fit  for  the  like  o' 
you." 

"  But  you  agitate  Mv.  Leigh,  ma'am,  and  it  was  owing  to  her 
he  had  these  spasms." 

"  0,  ay  !  and  was  that  it  ?  Wool,  I'll  say  nac  mair.  If  it 
wasna  his  fault,  it's  no  me  as  will  say  ane  Avord  more  abune 
the  matter.  I  see  the  hail  thing  the  noo,  and  I  dinna  think  it 
strange  that  a  madame  like  that  should  hae  been  tuke  wi'  his 
bonny  luiks.  Ech  !  puir  bairns,  ye  hae  had  a  grand  miss  o'  ill, 
and  its  wecl  ye  had  the  good  speerit,  my  man,  to  thraw  Satan 
behind  ye." 

"  .Shall  I  give  him  the  broth,  ma'am?  "  said  Lotty  ;  "  you  have 
80  much  to  do." 

"  Weel,  mind  now  yc  dinna  give  it  ovnre  hot.  It's  nae  mair 
nor  right  that  yc  should  learn  yer  duty  as  a  wife." 

And  ^Irs.  Laird  departed,  without  seeing  that  whatever  good 
her  broth  might  have  done,  her  words  were  stings  to  Philip. 

"  Lotty,  Lotty,  do  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Philip." 

"  Your  simple  yes  is  to  mo  what  a  solemn  oath  would  be  from 
another.     I  may  feel  it  so,  may  I  not,  Lotty?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Philip,"  said  Lotty,  touched  with  his  weak  and 
faltering  voice. 

"  I  sliould  like  to  knoAv  what  feeling  prompts  you,  Lotty,  to 
hide  what  you  might  so  truly  expose  to  your  own  honor  and 
credit?" 

"As  I  hope  for  mercy  myself,  Philip,  so  Avould  I  give  it 
others." 

"  Mercy  !  "  said  Pliilip,  echoing  her  word  ;  "  why  should  you 
require  mercy  ?  " 

"  We  are  all  sinners  before  God,  Philip,  and  all  have  need  of 
mercy." 

'Jj,And  do  you  believe  so  truly  in  a  God,  Lotty  ?  " 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  225 

"  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  '  There  is  no  God,' "  she 
answered,  witli  solemn  emphasis. 

Philip  colored,  and  remained  silent  for  some  time. 

'•  Has  the  doctor  said  anything  to  yon,  Lotty,  about  my  ill- 
ness?    Does  he  think  it  Avill  be  long  before  I  am  better?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  Philip," 

''  I  should  like  to-  speak  to  him  when  he  has  time,"  said 
Philip. 

*•'  Very  well,  Philip  ;  but  now  pray  try  to  sleep  ;  the  doctor 
said  you  were  to  keep  quiet." 

"  Will  you  remain  where  you  are?" 

"  Yes,  Philip." 

He  shut  his  eyes,  and  she  sat  in  her  child's  attitude  at  the 
bottom  of  the  bed,  reading.  And  so  they  remained  for  an  hour, 
but  she  knew  he  did  not  sleep. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  Mrs.  Laird  entered. 

"  Weel,  bairn,  ye  hae  been  vara  quiet.  I  hae  been  to  the 
door,  peeping  through  yon  chink,  and  aye  seen  ye  at  yer  post. 
So  when  ye  get  weel,  Mr.  Leigh,  ye'll  have  to  remember  she  did 
her  best,  though  she  is  sae  youug.  But  now,  bairn,  gang  ye  to 
the  big  hound  ;  he  joost  breaks  my  heart,  ganging  by  the  door- 
mat ;  he  looks  that  wistful  at  me.  His  een  say  as  well  as  ony 
Christian,  '  Hoo  long  do  ye  mean  to  keep  me  biding  here?' 
And  he'll  no  stir  for  ony  of  us." 

"  May  I  bring  him  up  here,  ma'am?"  said  Lotty. 

"  Nae,  bairn,  gang  yer  ways  first  oot  o'  the  door,  and  get  a  bit 
fresh  air,  with  tlie  big  doggie,  and  then  may  be  Pll  see  about 
letting  him  go  ben  the  house." 

"  Shall  you  want  me,  Philip?" 

"  I  want  you  always,  Lotty  ;  but  go." 

"  O,  ay,  gang  awa' ;  ye  Avadna,  Mr.  Leigh,  keep  a  young  thing 
like  thon  fra  the  Lord's  air.  She'll  joost  gang  into  the  garden, 
and  ril  be  sitting  in  thon  chaii*  Avatching  her,  to  see  she  gets  into 
nae  mischief." 

"  Can  I  see  her?  "  said  Philip,  eagerly. 

"  No,  diuna  you  stir  ;  I'll  tell  ye  a'  the  news  as  I  sit.  Ech  ! 
but,  mon,  I  dinua  understand  ye.  Hardly  letting  the  bairn  out 
o'  your  sight,  and  then  letting  that  hussie  have  speech  o'  her." 

"  What  is  she  doing  now,  Mrs.  Laird?  " 

"  Why,  she  is  rinning  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  and  the 
big  doggie  is  after  her,  and  they  are  like  twa  bairns  at  play. 
Ay !  but  it's  wonderfu',  how  he  threeps  after  that  bit  thing. 
Has  she  nae  mither,  that  she  gaed  that  youug  lass  marry  you, 
Mr.  Leigh?" 


226  »  MARGARET 

"  No,  phc  had  no  mother." 

"  I  thought  so  !  and  ye  bein^,  nae  doubt,  knowledgable,  did 
ye  think  it  wad  be  a  guid  purpose  o'  marriage,  to  tie  that  child 
down  in  her  early  years  ?  Ye  couldna  have  expected  her  to  be  a 
woman  ot"  wile-like  pairts." 

The  hot  tears  bur.st  from  I'hilip's  eyes  ;  they  had  been  gather- 
ing lonsr,  and  Mrs.  Laird  was  silent  and  watchful  in  her  efforts 
to  calm  his  agitation. 

Though  she  had  many  a  secret  misgiving  as  to  the  cause  of 
this  bitter  Aveeping  on  the  part  of  a  man  who  looked  as  if  he  was 
one  of  Nature's  finest  works,  she  did  not  like  to  ask  him  more 
questions  ;  hut  settled  in  her  own  mind  she  would  give  the 
thoughtless  child-wile  many  a  lecture  on  the  duty  of  comporting 
herself  discreetly.  For  such  tears  could  only  have  been  extorted 
by  some  heavy  domestic  disappointment. 

In  the  evening  the  doctor  was  closeted  long  with  his  patient, 
and  Mrs.  Laird  took  the  opportunity  of  giving  her  first  lecture 
to  Lotty,  whom  Philip  had  desired  not  to  be  present. 

"  I  am  thinking,  my  bairn,  if  ye  paid  half  as  much  attention 
to  Mr.  Leigh  as  ye  do  to  yer  dog,  he  wad  be  better  content." 

"  Did  he  say  so  ma'am?"  asked  Lotty,  quickly. 

"  Nae,  he  said  nothing,  but  he  wept  salt  tears,  and  nae  man 
does  that  wi'out  heart's  sorrow," 

Mrs.  Laird  perceived,  with  much  shock,  that  Lotty  seemed 
pleased  to  hear  her  husband  had  been  weeping. 

''  Nay,  ma'am,"  said  she,  in  answer  to  her  reproof,  "  I  did 
not  mean  to  be  heartless,  but  people  do  not  weep  unless  their 
hearts  are  soft  and  tender," 

"  But,  bairn,  if  you  put  on  him  owre  much,  nae  wonder  ye 
make  his  heart  hard." 

"  I  will  try  not  to  put  on  him  then,  ma'am,"  said  Lotty. 

"  That's  my  gude  bairn.  May  the  Lord  but  please  to  grant 
him  his  health,  and  ye  will  turn  out  a  grand  wife  yet.  But  hae 
ye  nae  relations,  child?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  of  all  kinds." 

"And  has  he?" 

'•  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  And  how  cum  ye  to  this  heathenish  place,  no  one  near  ye, 
and  no  servants  ?  " 

"  Philip  wished  it,  ma'am." 

"  And  are  ye  wi-el  olV  ?  no  that  the  doctor  or  me  is  to  say 
money  lovers,  and  I  hae  taken  ye  into  my  house,  and  that  is  just 
next  to  taking  ye  into  my  heart,  and  if  Philip,  as  ye  call  him, 
but  mends,  that's  a'  the  recompense  Janet  Laird  wanta." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  22T 

"  Philip  told  me,  ma'am,  to  give  you  this  money  ;  and  as  we 
are  not  poor,  he  trusts  that  you  will  allow  us  to  pay  for  eveiy- 
thing,  the  same  as  if  you  had  kindly  taken  us  in  as  lodgers. 
But  you  must  suiFer  me  to  say,  that  no  money,  nothing  we  can 
give,  will  repay  you,  in  our  thoughts,  for  this  truly  Samaritan 
kindness." 

"  Bairn,  bairn,  diuna  talk  like  that !  we  are  sair  wearied  living 
in  this  evil  place,  and  that  makes  one  fashions  ;  but  I  had  a  lad 
brither,  just  like  your  Philip,  and  my  heart  Avarms  to  him." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  ma'am,  and  I  thank  you  also  for  your 
goodness  to  Bear,  for  —  for "     Here  Lotty's  voice  faltered. 

"  Say  nae  mair ;  the  doggie  is  unco  queer,  and  I  think  not 
quite  canny,  but  he  is  vara  welcome,  as  long  as  he  is  discreet. 
But  deed  o'  goodness,  bairn  !  div  ye  ken  how  much  money  is 
here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  nearly  two  hundred  pounds  of  English  moneys 
and  forty-eight  pounds  in  foreign  money,  and  you  can  have  as 
much  more  when  you  wish  it." 

"  Weel,  I'll  tak  care  on  it  then,"  said  Mrs.  Laird,  with  a  sigh. 

*'  Why  do  you  sigh,  ma'am?  " 

"  If  we  had  the  half  o'  that,  every  year,  I  wad  be  back  in 
our  ain  country." 

"  This  is  yours,  at  all  events,  ma'am,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Hoot,  bairn !  more  than  twa  hundred  pounds  !  It's  little 
ye  ken  about  money ;  we'll  tak  what's  fitting,  just  to  mak  ye 
feel  at  hame,  but  na  mair,  I  can  certify." 


CHAPTEE    LV. 

The  doctor's  face  was  grave  and  sad  as  he  left  Philip's  room. 

"  Eh,  doctor  !  but  ye  dunna  think  he'll  die?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Have  you  told  him?"  said  Lotty,  anxiously  looking  up  into 
his  face. 

"  I  was  feared  it  might  hurt  him,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  O,  sir,  ought  he,  should  he,  be  pei-mitted  to  die  unprepared? 
Will  you  kindly  think  of  this  ?  " 

As  she  spoke.  Bear  came  into  the  room,  and  putting  up  his 
paw,  tapped  her  on  the  arm. 


228  MARGARET 

"  Philip  calls,  sir  ;  but  if  there  is  no  hope,  0  !  hide  it  not,  for 
the  love  of  God."     And  she  left  the  room. 

"  Deed,  Alick,  she  is  no  canny,  heartless  bairn,  talking  in 
that  way,  and  joost  liearing  she  may  lose  her  fine,  winsome  hus- 
band..   And  tlie  hound  Deed,  if  they  gae  ou  this  queer 

"way,  I'll  be  demented.  And  she  so  sweet  spoken  too.  You 
may  depend  on  it,  Alick,  she  has  broke  his  heart  with  coldness." 

"  But  aye  body  speaks  well  on  lier,  Janet,  and  the  auld  nurso 
said  she  had  had  uuething  to  do  last  night.  The  young  Icddy 
■was  up  at  the  first  word." 

"  I  dinna  ken  what  to  mak  o'  her,  Alick,  for  old  Madame 
"Wegel's  bonne  has  been  hei*e  a  crying  after  her.  But  I'll  think 
nae  mair  ;  they  must  gang  their  ain  ways,  if  they  winua  seek 
counsel  o'  me.     But  div  ye  think  he'll  dee,  Alick?" 

"  Naething  but  a  miracle  will  save  him.  Janet." 

"I'll  just  gang  to  the  chink  o'  the  door,  maybe  he's  axing  her, 
and  she'll  just  flit  him  alF,  if  she  spaks  out  to  him."  And  Mrs. 
Laird  departed  to  listen,  so  that  she  might  make  amends  for  any 
heartlessncss  on  the  part  of  the  little  wife  ;  but  to  say  the  truth, 
she  was  laboring  under  an  ungovernable  fit  of  curiosity. 

"  Lotty,  did  the  doctor  tell  you  nothing  about  my  illness  ?  " 

"  I  had  not  time  to  hear  more,  Philip,  than  that  his  opinion 
was  unfavorable." 

"  Then  you  will  triumph,  Lotty.  Death  will  free  you  forever 
from  your  chain." 

"  Xay,  Philip,  talk  not  so.  Do  you  think  me  so  base  in  heart 
and  feeling  as  to  rejoice  in  the  prospect  of  your  death?" 

"  Why  should  you  be  ditfereut  from  the  rest  of  the  world  ? 
You  hate  me,  and  you  will  be  rid  of  me." 

''  I  do  not  hate  you,  Philip,  and  never  did." 

"  Ah,  Lotty,  if  I  could  but  think  that." 

"  I  could  not  have  married  you,  Philip,  had  I  not  liked  you, 
whatever  my  father's  commands*  had  been  ;  and  you  were  fast 
gaining  my  grateful  affections,  by  your  forbearance  at  that  time. 
I  wished  to  love  you,  Philip.  I  tried  to  do  so,  not  only  because 
of  his  wishes,  but  the  void  in  my  heart  at  his  loss  was  so  aching. 
But " 

"  But  what,  Lotty?  Go  on,  go  on  ;  if  I  had  only  known  that 
before." 

"  You  did,  Philip.  I  told  you.  Do  you  not  remember  my 
warning  you,  tliat  my  love  was  not  to  be  forced,  only  gained?" 

"  I  remember  that  conversation  well.  I  have  pondered  over 
it  often.     I  determined  to  make  you  love  me  my  own  way." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  229 

"  Yes,  Philip." 

"  And,  Lotty,  did  you  refuse  me  your  affection,  because  in  my 
man's  pride  I  would  take  no  advice  how  to  win  it?  " 

"  No,  Philip,  that  you  know  is  not  the  case.  I  love  what  is 
good,  great,  generous,  and  frank.  Did  you  act  thus  towards 
me  ?  " 

"  I  loved  but  you,  Lotty." 

"  And  yourself,  Philip." 

"  Then  you  mean  to  insinuate  I  have  wrecked  my  own  hap- 
piness." 

"  I  do  not  insinuate,  Philip.  What  I  said  so  soon  after  our 
marriage,  I  say  now.  My  love  was  to  be  won.  I  pointed  out 
to  you  the  way,  which  I  would  not  have  done  to  other  than  my 
husband.     You  took  the  opposite  path." 

"  Whatever  path  I  took,  it  seems  that  I,  with  a  love  in  my 
heart  not  equalled  by  moi'tal  man,  am  doomed, — doomed  to  an 
early  death,  —  and  you " 

"  Will  pray  that  you  may  live,  Philip,"  interrupted  Lotty, 
solemnly. 

"  Ah,"  said  Philip,  eagerly,  "  is  that  true?  Say  it  again,  my 
wife." 

"  O,  Philip,  it  is  true  that  your  life  is  in  danger  !  Can  you 
think  of  meeting  your  God,  unprepared,  unrepentant  ?  " 

"  Is  that  the  reason  why  you  would  pray  for  my  recovery?" 

"  Yes,  Philip." 

"  And  would  you  rather  that  I  should  live,  live,  Lotty,  to  be 
what  I  have  been  to  you,  perhaps  worse,  if  that  can  be,  than  die, 
as  you  say,  '  unprepared  to  meet  your  God '  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Philip." 

"  Come  here,  and  look  at  me.  Ah,  matchless  eyes  in  beauty 
and  color,  but  glorious  in  their  truth  and  clearness,  look  full  at 
me  !  Could  you  live  on  through  this  long  life,  separated  from 
all  you  love,  subjected  to  every  trial  and  indignity,  that  you  so 
well  know  can  be  inflicted  upon  you,  for  the  hope  that  you  might 
save  a  lost  soul  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Philip." 

"  Then  your  God  shall  be  mine  ;  teach  me  to  pray  to  him 
that,  whether  I  live  or  die,  you  may  have  the  reward  you  merit. 
Lotty,  you  have  conquered." 

"  Nay,  Philip,  it  Avas  not  I  who  entered  the  lists  ;  it  was  one 
Philip  against  another.    You  have  conquered  yourself;  but  your 
heart  beats.    If  you  love  Lotty,  as  you  say  you  do,  you  will  calm 
yourself  at  present,  and  rest." 
20 


230  MARGARET 

"  If  I  love  Lotty  ?  "  murmured  Philip.  "  I  thought  I  did  ;  but 
I  loved  my  owu  mad  -will  better.  AVill  you  read  to  me  —  read 
the  Bible,  read  that  one  verse  again,  — '  The  fool  hath  said  in 
his  heart,  Tliere  is  no  God'?  " 

She  phiced  herself  before  him,  and  a  lofty,  pure  expression 
came  over  the  lovely  child-face,  as  she  opened  the  Holy  Book  to 
teach  the  Avorldly-wise  man. 

AVith  unerring  judgment  she  turned  from  one  passage  to  an- 
other. In  the  glowing  lauirua're  of  Isaiah,  the  attributes  of  the 
Holy  Trinity,  the  Father,  the  Son,  the  Comforter,  were  shown  to 
him.  Then  the  fallen,  abject  state  of  man.  And  with  voice  that 
thrilled  him  Avith  its  earnestness,  she  poured  forth  the  ever-living 
Avords  of  David,  as  he  bared  his  heart,  and  the  heart  of  every 
man,  before  God. 

"  Ah  !  Lotty,  how  true,  how  just.  Is  it  you  that  speak  to  me 
in  such  language,  or  is  it  meant  for  me?  Surely  the  name  of 
Philip  Leigh  must  be  written  there.  Say  it  aloud — nay,  spare  me 
nothing,  for  that  Avas,  that  must  have  been  written  solely  for  me." 

"  Nay,  Philip,  be  calm.  Recollect  how  necessary  it  is  that 
you  refrain  from  all  excitement.  Try  and  sleep  now ;  to-mor- 
row I  Avill  read  again." 

"How  do  you  pray,  Lotty?  I  know  you  pray  every  night 
and  morning.      I  should  like  to  hear  you." 

Lotty  knelt  down,  and  repeated  the  simple  form  of  prayer 
with  which  she  concluded  each  day.  It  was  still  much  in  the 
same  form  as  Avhen  a  child  at  school  she  used  it,  and  its  touch- 
ing simplicity  went  through  to  Philip's  heart.  She  paused  a 
moment,  and  then  whisperingly  said  his  name,  with  a  petition 
that  God  would  open  his  eyes,  and  unseal  his  heart.  It  Avas  a 
prayer  he  felt  she  must  have  repeated  daily,  and  then  Avith 
soleum  earnestness  she  said  the  Lord's  prayer.  He  repeated  it 
after  her. 

''You  always  say  that?"  he  Avhispered. 

"  Always,"  she  answered. 

"  I  thank  God  for  it !  "  and  he  fell  quietly  asleep. 

"When  Lotty  left  him  for  a  short  time,  to  go  to  Mrs.  Laird, 
she  found  that  old  lady  Aveeping. 

"  yiy  bairn,"  she  said,  "  I  hae  been  at  the  chink  in  the  door, 
and  though  I  couldna  hear  nmch,  I  saAV  ye  opeu  the  Holy  Book, 
and  I  hope  God  Avill  l)less  yer  labors.  I  took  ye  for  ane  o'  a 
hard  lieart,  but  somehoo  ye  liae  mair  thought  than  I  kenned, 
and  it  Avad  be  a  burning  sin  did  that  fine  laddie  die  Avith  his  sins 
nae  forgiven." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  281 

"  You  will  help  me  then,  ma'am,"  said  Lotty,  taking  her  hand 
and  kissing  it. 

"  Bless  the  bonnie  bairn  ! "  said  Mrs.  Laird,  folding  her  in 
her  strong  embrace,  "  I  am  ready  to  die  for  ye  baith  ;  and  hoo 
it  comes  about  I  canna  rightly  say,  for  I  kenned  naethiug  about 
either  on  you  yestermorn." 

"  It  shows,  ma'am,  how  kind  your  heart  is,"  said  Lotty. 

"Weel  noo,  we  maim  all  gang  to  bed  ;  it  has  been  a  day  of 
wonders,  and  nae  mortal  can  tell  what  new  thing  may  hap  on 
the  morrow." 


CHAPTER    LVI. 

In  the  night  Philip  had  so  severe  a  return  of  the  spasms,  that 
for  several  days  he  lay  faint  and  exhausted,  with  the  damp  and 
the  hue  of  death  on  his  face,  and  scarcely  any  perceptible  life  in 
him. 

Mrs.  Laird  had  no  reason  to  doubt  ^' the  bairn's"  care  for 
him.  It  seemed  that  Philip  was  sufficiently  conscious  to  refuse 
all  food  but  what  her  hand  presented,  hear  no  voice  save  hers, 
while  the  good  doctor  would  say,  — 

"  That's  a  Avonderful  young  thing,  that  bairn  Avife,  she  forgets 
naething  ;  and  yet  I  dinua  think  she  luves  her  husband  as  he 
does  her." 

"  That's  what's  sending  me  joost  crackit,  Alick ;  such  a 
bonnie  fine  lad,  too,  and  when  I  get  fashed  Avi'  her  steady, 
cauld  ways,  wi'  uac  heart  in  them,  she  luiks  at  me  with  them 
stars  o'  eyes,  and  I  Avad  joost  think  her  a  bit  angel,  and  could 
loA'e  the  ground  she  stands  on.  And  that  big  doggie,  they're 
a  pair  on  'em.  He  is  a  lying  at  this  minvite  on  ma  best  parlor 
door  mat,  and,  wad  ye  believe  it,  I  tak  it  up  stairs  mysel,  joost 
for  him,  for  as  he  Avadna  leave  the  bairn,  I  didna  think  I  could 
sleep  Aveel  if  he  hadna  a  saft  bed  too." 

"  Ech  !  Janet,  ye  had  always  the  kind  heart." 

"And  have  ye  tell't  the  lad  Philip  he  canna  mend?"  said 
she. 

"  Ay,  Janet,  when  the  spasms  was  bad,  he  luiks  at  me  and 
said,  'Is  this  death?'  and  I  answered,  ^  The  Lord  so  Avills  it.' 
Then  the  bairn  Avife  stoopit  doAATi,  and  kissed  him  on  the  cheek, 
and  he  lookit  aAvfu'  at  her,  and  said,  '  Do  ye  this  for  the  first 


232  MARGARET 

time,  because  yon  vill  soon  be  free?'  '  No,  Pliilip,'  said  she, 
'  from  sorrow  and  pity.'  Then  Aveut  he  aflf  again,  Avorse  nor 
ever,  and  I  didna  think,  Janet,  he  would  hae  lived  till  morn," 

"  Ay  !  mon,  they  are  past  my  kenning,  wi'  their  odd  ways, 
as  man  and  wife.  First  time,  indeed  !  I  dinna  think  1  was 
ever  but  a  discreet,  prudent  body,  but  1  gav  you  a  wife's  kiss  on 
the  asking,  Alick." 

"  She  is  sae  young,  Janet,  and  may  be  they  have  nae  been 
lang  married  ;  I  Avonder  has  she  Avritten  hame.  It  is  time  his 
friends  should  knoAv,  though  it  may  be  Aveeks  yet  afore  the 
end." 

When  riiilip  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  talk  and  sit  up  for  a 
feAV  hours  of  the  day,  Lotty  perceived  that  a  gloomy  spirit  Avas 
in  possession  of  his  mind.  She  had  not  expected  that  he  Avould 
alAvays  be  in  the  soft  and  gentle  mood  that  he  AA'as  before  the 
last  seizure,  so  her  gentle  anxiety  Avas  nothing  daunted. 

Mrs.  Laird  Avas  sitting  at  the  Avindow,  in  his  room,  Avhile 
Lottv  AA'as  taking  her  usual  run  in  the  garden  Avith  Bear. 

"  Do  you  see  her,  Mrs.  Laird?  "  said  Philip. 

"  Yes,  she  is  ganging  sloAvly  down  the  broad  path,  and  the 
big  doggie  is  sorroAvful  by  her  side,  and  he  has  getten  her 
little  Avee  hand  in  his  mou." 

''Have  they  had  no  race  together?  has  she  not  played  Avith 
him  as  usual  ?  " 

"  Noo,  they  arc  joost  doAvn-casted,  baith  on  'em,"  said  Mrs. 
Laird  ;  "  though  she  is  no  Avifo-like  in  her  Avays,  she  has  aye  a 
Avarn\  heart,  Mr.  Leigh." 

Tliis  Avas  a  feeler  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Laird  to  extract  some- 
thing from  Philip,  Avho,  hoAvever,  made  no  reply. 

"  She  Avas  married  oAvre  young,  Mr.  Leigh,  and  I  diuua  tliink 
ye  kenned  Iioav  to  beguile  her  into  Avife's  Avays." 

"  Trying  to  do  so  has  brought  me  to  this  pass,"  he  said 
gloomily,  as  if  to  himself. 

''  I  d(jiibt  she  liasiia  been  canny  Avith  him,"  said  Mrs.  Laird 
to  herself;  "  men  are  sae  queer,  thinking  they  are  lords  of 
creation,  and  never  dc^eving  there  must  be  leddies  too." 

'■'  What  is  she  doing  noAv?"   said  Philip  again. 

"She's  drooping  still  mair,  and  the  hound's  tail  SAA-eeps  the 
groimd." 

'' Tlien  yf)U  lliiiik  she  is  in  sorroAv?"  said  Philip,  eagerly. 

"  Jt  looks  vara  like  it,  and  to  an  auld  body  like  me,  1  dinna 
luvc  to  see  young  things  greet.  Sae,  Mr.  Leigh,  if  ye  hae  ony 
thing  on  your  mind,  atAveen  her  and  you,  get  it  settled  sune  ;  ye 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  233 

wadna  like  to  die,  and  leave  her  so  young  wi'  a  canker  in  her 
heart." 

"  That  would  more  surely  be  the  case  if  I  lived,  Mrs.  Laird," 
said  Pliilip,  bitterly. 

"  The  rights  between  you  I  canna  tell,  as  ye'll  no  seek  coun- 
sel of  ane  wha  is  willing  to  gie  it.  But  ony  way,  my  mon, 
dinna  gang  to  meet  your  Maker  Avi'  an  um-epented  sin  on  your 
heart." 

Philip  was  silent,  but  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  window,  as 
if  he  tried  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  garden. 

"  She  faulds  her  hands  and  she  luiks  up  to  Heaven  ;  maybe 
she  is  sending  vip  a  prayer  to  Heaven  for  ye,  Mr.  Leigh,"  said 
Mrs.  Laird,  who,  mindful  of  her  promise  to  Lotty,  was  endeavor- 
in2[  to  fulfil  it. 

"  And  do  you  think  there  is  a  being  who  hears  such  prayers?" 
he  answered. 

"  Ech  !  laddie,  speak  not  so  awfu'  like.  Div  ye  think  the 
meanest  daisy  that  turns  its  wee  star-face  to  the  sky  graws  by 
chance?  or  div  ye  think  yon  winsome  child,  whom  ye  have  set 
up  as  an  idol  in  yer  heart,  was  man's  wark  ?  Can  ye  see  nae 
signs  of  a  high  and  wonderful  hand  in  that  fair  face,  that  gra- 
cious spii'it?" 

"  'Tis  true,"  murmured  Philip,  "  a  God  only  could  have 
formed  her.  But  is  he  a  just  God,  to  bless  one  with  such  per- 
fection, and  to  curse  others  with  such  infirmitv?" 

"  Each  ane  has  their  gifts,  if  they  wad  but  see  them." 

"  But  each  have  not  the  same  advantages,  the  same  opportu- 
nities given  them,  of  learning  their  duty." 

"As  how,  Mr  Leigh?" 

"  I  had  no  early  religious  training ;  my  parents  gave  me  no 
instruction  or  example." 

"  And  Avha's  the  differ,  man?  The  Lord  made  it  up  till  ye 
by  gi'ing  ye  that  angel-child  in  yer  braw  manhood.  Then  ye 
wad  be  no  the  waur  for  thanking  him  night  and  day  for  such  a 
gift.  '  The  Lord  is  righteous  in  all  his  ways,  and  holy  in  all 
his  woi-ks.'  What  he  takes  in  ane  away,  he  gives  twafold  in 
another.  But  dinna  greet ;  I  see  yer  smitten  wi'  yer  ingratitude, 
and  it's  weel  ye  suld  be." 

It  is  true  Philip  was  smitten  with  a  sudden  awe,  inexplicable 
to  him.  It  seemed  as  if  his  heart  and  soul  were  filled  with  a 
wonder  and  amazement  he  had  never  felt  before.  The  vastness 
of  the  creative  powers  of  an  all-powerful  and  unseen  God  made 
him  feel  himself  as  the  merest  atom  of  dust.  And  yet  the 
20* 


234  MARGARET 

beauty,  the  comprehensiveness,  the  power  of  such  ca  Being,  filled 
his  senses  witli  a  liigh  and  cli'vating'  feelincr,  that  made  him  — 
the  proud,  the  luibendin,!;  Thilip  Leigh  —  wish  to  adore  with  the 
humility  and  meekness  of  a  child.  An  agitation  ran  through  his 
whole  Irame,  but  it  seemed  at  once  so  delightful,  so  soothing, 
that  his  heart  grew  calm  and  his  foce  serene  under  its  influ- 
ence. 

He  seemed  to  realize  that  he  had  a  Father,  a  Friend,  a 
Saviour  near  him,  on  his  pillow,  in  his  heart,  and  the  thirst  of  a 
hungry,  dying  soul  came  over  him. 

"  Where  is  my  wife?"  he  said  at  last. 

"  She  is  sitting  on  the  grass,  wi'  an  open  letter  on  her  knee ; 
but  she  talks  to  the  hound,  and  whiles  he  puts  a  paw  on  her 
arm,  and  whiles  he  licks  her  hands,  and  I'm  thinking,  like  ony 
Christian,  he  is  trying  to  comfort  her." 

"  Will  vou  ask  her  to  come  to  me?" 

"  Ay,  laddie.  I  need  but  tap,  and  she'll  be  up,  like  the  flitting 
of  a  rose-leaf." 

"  Lotty,  will  you  again  read  to  me?"  said  Philip,  as  she 
appeared. 

Tiiis  time  Lotty  read  out  of  the  Gospels  ;  and  as  her  soft  voice 
said  the  words  of  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  Philip  stretched 
out  both  hands,  and  said,  "  '  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven  and  before  thee,  and  am  no  more  Avorthy  to  be  called 
thy  son  ; '  but  forgive  me,  O,  forgive  me  !  " 

"  Amen  !  "  said  Lotty  solemnly. 

From  that  hour  the  spirit  of  a  humble  child  came  upon 
Philip. 

He  poured  forth  to  Lotty  the  long-concealed  feelings  of  his 
heart,  the  evil  tree  of  envy  and  malice  that  so  grew  and  flour- 
ished there.  He  laid  bare  the  proud,  bitter  feelings,  that 
prompted  him  to  turn  from  her  loving  eflforts,  and  trust  only  to 
his  own  haughty,  determined  will ;  and  the  more  that  little,  slight 
frame  enveloj)od  itself  in  its  own  mantle  of  rectitude  and  patience, 
so  tiie  more  did  he  determine  that  it  should  bend  and  break  to 
his  will. 

In  everything  had  he  failed  ;  with  each  trial  she  seemed  but 
further  renuned  from  him  alter  each  attempt,  but  more  resolute 
und  conquering. 

"  And,  ah,  Lotty !  "  he  continued  one  day,  "  you  remember 
wlicn  I  returned  to  the  chateau,  and  you  asked  me  if  I  had  lieea 
ill  ;  then,  ami  tlien  only,  did  a  bitter  feeling  of  remorse  and  de- 
spair seize  me,  and  a  sense  of  humiliation  appeared  to  break  me 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  ^35 

down  into  the  dust.  But  such  was  my  infatuation,  such  my 
blind  madness,  that,  with  this  feeling  of  despair  in  my  heart, 
with  a  whispering  in  my  soul  to  forbear,  to  give  all  up,  and 
wait  your  own  time,  your  own  wishes,  I  yet  determined  to  make 
this  last  trial.     'Twas  made,  and  I  lie  here  on  my  death-bed  !  " 

Lotty  could  only  bid  him  be  calm  ;  she  felt  that  such  remorse 
was  good  for  him. 

"  You  have  had  a  letter  to-day,  Lotty,"  he  said. 

"  Yes  ;  one  from  Margaret." 

"May  I  hear  it?" 

"  Willingly,  Philip." 

And  as  if  her  heart  was  the  heart  that  ^vrote,  Lotty  read  out 
the  letter,  with  all  the  pathos  and  feeling  it  deserved. 

"No  wonder  she  mourns  for  you,  my  Lotty  —  'her  best 
Lotty  ; '  but  you  will  soon  be  with  her  !  Ah,  wonderful  is  this 
love  in  Avoman  !  —  so  pui-e,  so  constant !  —  she  will  not  think 
her  Harold  guilty.  And  he  is  not,  Lotty,  in  this.  I  can  make 
amends  to  Harold  for  many  a  dark  thought  —  many  a  wicked 
wish.  She  wishes  to  go  to  Cowes,  does  she  ?  to  see  the  rooms 
he  used  —  the  place  he  trod  last.  True  woman  !  —  and  only 
cares  to  have  his  name  cleared.  It  will  be.  And,  I  think, 
Lotty,  it  is  reasonable  that  wish  to  go  to  Cowes,  for  he  may 
have  left  some  papers  ;  you  may  learn  some  circumstance  that 
will  throw  a  light  on  his  strange  and  inexplicable  conduct.  For 
if  ever  a  man  loved  his  wife,  Harold  did,  I  know.  Ah,  poor 
thing  !  —  poor,  forlorn,  unhappy  heart,  how  you  mourn  and  are 
weary  !  Write  to  her  —  comfort  her,  Lotty  ;  tell  her  you  will 
soon  be  with  her,  and  that  I  leave  you  to  her  as  a  legacy  —  such 
a  legacy  as  I  owe  for  unloyal  thoughts  of  her,  for  undue  judg- 
ment of  her  character,  the  first  time  I  saw  her.  And  noAv  send 
my  good  doctor  to  me  while  you  are  absent." 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  ncAv  feelings,  so  calm  and 
soothing,  Philip's  health  mended  rapidly,  so  that  he  was  enabled 
to  be  taken  out  for  a  short  airing  two  or  three  times. 

Mr.  Laird  had  petitioned  him  to  write  either  to  his  friends  or 
his  wife's,  but  Philip  would  not  hear  of  it. 


236  MARGARET 

"  No,  no  ;  I  Avill  have  no  one  come  between  her  and  rae.  Let 
me  have  her  all  to  myself  for  the  short  time  you  permit  me  to 
think  I  may  live." 

Durin"r  this  time  Lottv  had  endeavored,  Avith  all  her  best 
energies,  to  load  him  on  in  the  patii  of  peace  and  holiness  ;  and 
with  wonderful  eagerness  and  thirsting  he  drank  in  every  word 
—  every  draught  she  gave  him.  Such  was  the  iutluence  of  his 
conduct,  that  Mrs.  Laird  again  elevated  biin  on  to  the  topmost 
pinnacle  of  her  favor,  and  no  son  could  have  appeared  more  dear 
to  her,  and  lor  no  child  could  she  have  exerted  herself  more. 

The  bairn-wife  sank  into  a  second-rate  thought,  with  her  big 
doggie,  unless  they  administered  to  IMiilip's  comfort. 

"  I  almost  think,  Lotty,"  said  Philip,  one  day,  ''  that  if  I  go  on 
improving  so  nnich  in  strength,  I  may  reach  home.  I  long  to 
see  my  home  with  the  new  eyes  and  heart  your  God  has  given 
me.  I  dream  of  it  at  night,  and  often  think,  Lotty,  that  it 
would  be  now  to  me  what  it  ought  to  have  been  before." 

'■  Yes,  Philip  ;  and  we  might  ask  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laird  to  come 
home  with  us.  She  Avants  to  leaA'C  this  place  ;  and  you  knoAv,  a 
medical  man  Avas  required  at  Warrington,  before  avc  came  aAvay, 
for  the  ncAv  schools  and  college,  and  Ave  might  get  the  appoint- 
ment for  him." 

"  You  tliink  of  every  one,  Lotty.  Li  a  day  or  tAvo  aa-c  Avill 
propose  it,  for  there  Avill  be  less  danger  attendant  on  the  journey, 
Avith  the  good  doctor  near  ;  and,  besides,  should  anything  occur 
to  me,  you  Avill  not  be  alone." 

"  NoAV,  then,  Ave  Avill  go  for  a  drive,  for  I  see  the  little  Aehicle 
coming  up  tlie  street.      Run,  Bear,  and  bring  Philip's  hat." 

"Ah  !  Lotty,  I  gaA'^e  you  that  dog  ;  I  gave  you  that  one  source 
of  happiness." 

'•  You  did,  Philip,  and  never  Avas  gift  more  prized,  more  be- 
loved. Ah  !  good  Bear,  Lotty  OAves  you  much,  that  no  one  but 
you  and  Lotty  knoAV  ;  and  yet,  I  dare  say,  avc  have  yet  much 
more  for  Avhich  Ave  shall  have  to  be  grateful." 

It  Avas  not  to  be  supposed  that  Madame  La  Luce  Avould  let 
the  rich  and  handsome  yoiuig  Englishman  slip  through  her 
fingers  Avitliout  a  struggle.  Certainly,  if  any  one  (I'liilip  him- 
self) iiad  told  her,  that  lie  but  used  her  services  to  niake  his 
Avife  jealous,  she  coidd  not,  Avould  not,  have  believed  them. 

Th(!  thing  Avould  have  been  inexplicable  to  lier.  She  believed 
her  own  charms  so  irresistible,  Philip  could  be  actuated  by  no 
other  motiv(^  than  adoration  of  her.  For  a  short  time,  under- 
standing from  the  doctor  that  he  Avas  dying,  she  had  dismissed 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  237 

tim  from  licr  thoughts,  with  little  difficulty,  as  dead.  Upon 
hearins:  however  that  he  was  better,  she  cast  about  in  her  mind 
hoAv  she  should  accomplish  an  interview.  So  she  wrote  a  note, 
which,  with  a  handsome  bribe,  she  gave,  herself,  to  one  of  strict 
Mrs.  Laird's  servants,  desiring  it  might  be  delivered  into  Mr. 
Leigh's  own  hands  quietly. 

The  foreign  servant,  delighted  even  without  a  bribe  to  do  a 
deed  she  knew  her  hard  and  decorous  mistress  would  utterly  ab- 
hor, executed  her  task  with  a  tact  worthy  of  Madame  La  Luce's 
own  maid ;  Philip  was  in  possession  of  the  letter,  without  any 
one  but  the  servant  knov/ing  it. 

He  languidly  opened  it,  and  after  reading  the  contents,  he 
called  Bear,  and  gave  it  to  him  to  play  with. 

It  was  a  pity  Madame  La  Luce  Avas  not  a  fly  on  the  wall,  to 
see  the  note  upon  which  she  had  spent  such  pathos  and  senti- 
ment now  crunching  into  little  nasty  bits,  under  the  destructive 
powers  of  the  "  hete  effroyable." 

On  the  following  day,  receiving  no  answer,  she  sent  another 
note  by  the  post.  "When  Philip  saw  the  handwriting,  he  called 
Bear  again,  and  as  if  it  Avere  Madame  La  Luce  herself.  Bear 
could  not,  apparently,  have  derived  more  satisfaction  in  tearing 
the  unopened  letter  into  a  thousand  bits. 

Mrs.  Laird  would  have  fainted  had  she  known  whose  hand 
penned  the  fragments  she  so  tidily  picked  up  and  put  into  the 
fire. 

Altogether  Bear  was  favored  with  a  good  many  of  those 
notes,  of  Avhose  contents  no  one  knew  anything  but  himself. 

But  Madame  La  Luce,  knowing  nothing  of  all  this,  still  flat- 
tered herself,  and  wrote,  but  was  taken  greatly  by  surprise  one 
day,  at  seeing  the  sick  man,  whom  she  supposed  too  weak  to 
answer  letters,  driving  out  with  the  young  child-Avife  beside  him. 

She  Avrote  to  express  her  delight  at  his  recovery ;  but,  as 
Bear  did  not  tell  what  was  in  the  letter,  of  course  no  one  was 
aware  of  it. 

Still  finding  that  no  responses  came,  Madame  grew  indignant, 
then  angry,  then  revengeful,  and  then  cunning.  She  v>'ould 
make  the  proud  Englishman  return  to  her. 

On  this  day  therefore,  when  they  were  driving  out,  the  coach- 
man suddenly  stopped,  and  before  either  Lofty  or  Philip  could 
have  prevented  her,  Madame  had  tripped  up  the  little  steps  of 
the  carriage,  and  seated  herself  opposite  to  them. 

"  Drive  on,"  she  said,  with  cool  effrontery  ;  which  the  coach- 
man, already  bribed,  and  in  the  plot,  did. 


238  JLUtGAEET 

"All!  M.  Loiirli,  how  clmrmee,  how  enchantee!  je  suis  de 
vous  voir,  and  so  well,  aussi,  so  strong,  so  lively,  so  yourself; 
and  your  littel  sister,  so  pretty,  so  fresh.  Ah  !  mon  Dieu  !  quel 
honlieur  inattenda." 

Philip's  eyes  flashed,  and  Lotty  saw  with  alarm  that  the  blue 
tint  of  suppressed  passion  and  rage  was  gathering  round  his  lips. 

"  Be  calna,  Philip,"  she  said,  "  dear  Philip,"  looking  into  his 
face  with  such  genuine  anxiety,  love,  and  pity,  that  he  felt  she 
loved  hiui  then,  and  tried  to  answer  her,  by  pressing  her  hands 
with  tender  force.  "  "We  are  in  the  public  streets  now,  dear 
Philip,  and  this  coachman  is  bribed.  Be  calm,  dear,  until  we 
get  into  the  lane  ;  she  cannot  hurt  me,  she  shall  not  hurt  you." 

"  Mafoi !  I  oblige,  truly  ;  I  much  oblige.  Miss,  your  English 
politcsse,  O,  so  great !  O,  I  forget,  you  Mrs.  Leigh,  dat  lady 
so  ver  polite  to  me  one  time,  she  set  her  great  cliien  to  me  !  Ah  ! 
mon  Dieu!  I  never  forget,  so  I  vill  take  my  littel  revenge;  ve 
vill  take  drive  together  through  de  town.  Coachman,  go  all 
through  de  town  ;  I  wish  to  be  ver  civil  and  polite,  so  I  put  on 
my  bonnet  f/-/a-?»of7c,  just  from  Paris,  and  all  my  line  things,  to 
do  you  honor,  M.  Leigh." 

As  she  spoke,  the  carriage  began  to  go  up  hill,  and  at  a  foot's 
pace.  One  clear,  sweet  whistle,  and  Bear  was  on  the  seat  by 
Madame  La  Luce.  Dirty  and  damp  with  his  run  through  the 
wet  streets,  his  great  tail  went  switching  over  INIadamc  La 
Luce's  face  and  bonnet,  blinding  her  eyes,  and  destroying  her 
personal  appearance.  For  a  moment  he  thought  he  had  been 
called  into  the  carriage  only  for  a  frolic  with  his  dear  mistress, 
but  a  scream  from  INIadame  La  Luce  changed  his  Avhole  nature. 

Every  bristle  raised,  his  eyes  becoming  blood-red,  his  fangs 
glisteuiug.  Bear  gave  a  savage  growl,  and  sprang  towards  her. 
Lotty  threw  her  arms  round  Iiim,  to  restrain  him,  while  Madame 
uttered  shriek  after  shriek. 

"  (iet  out,"  said  Lofty,  "  I  cannot  hold  him  long," 

With  one  spring,  Madame  jumped  ;  but  the  coachman  having 
been  told  to  care  for  no  row  in  the  carriage,  had  not  yet  checked 
his  horses,  though  ^Fadame's  shrieks  and  the  dog's  growls  were 
beginning  to  make  him  tlunk  that  he  had  better  not  obey  orders. 
Therefore  she  fell  with  considerable  violence  on  the  road. 

"  Bear,  watch  Philip,"  said  Lotty,  and  sprang  out  to  help  her. 
But  the  coaehman,  confused  and  amazed  at  the  extraordinary 
and  unexpected  result  of  the  intended  diive,  and  (he  horses 
being  half  unmanageable  witli  the  cries  and  screams,  and  their 
being  so  suddenly  checked  on  the  hill,  all  made  him,  in  some 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  239 

inexplicable  manner,  back  the  carriage,  so  that  it  went  over  the 
prostrate  form  of  Madame  La  Luce.  Some  people  came  up  at 
that  moment,  attracted  by  the  cries,  and,  leaving  them  to  assist 
the  unhappy  woman,  Lotty  Avas  at  Philip's  side  again  in  a 
moment. 

"  May  I  wait,  Philip,  to  see  if  she  is  much  hurt,  and  to  place 
her  in  safety  ?  " 

He  nodded  an  assent,  for  he  could  not  speak,  yet  Philip  was 
trying  to  exercise  his  new  feelings,  and  strove  to  hide  from 
Lotty  the  agony  he  was  suffering. 

"Are  you  sure  you  would  not  rather  go  home?" 

"  Go,"  said  Philip. 

They  had  not  to  Avait  long,  for  one  of  Madame's  own  servants 
came  to  her  rescue  and  help. 

She  was  not  stunned  or  senseless,  for,  as  they  lifted  her  up, 
she  cast  a  malignant,  hateful  glance  at  Philip,  and  screamed 
out, — 

"•  You  shall  have  de  law,  Mr.  Leigh,  you  shall  have  de  prison  ! 
you  shall  be  fined  for  de  assault,  for  de  wicked  treatment,  and 
dat  hete  effroyable  shall  be  shot." 

"  Drive  home,"  said  Lotty,  "  and  fast." 

Deep  sighs  came  from  Philip  ;  the  cold  dew  burst  from  eveiy 
pore.  Lotty  could  hear  the  bovmding  heart  beating  as  if  mad 
from  imprisonment ;  the  lips,  the  eyes,  the  clear,  thin  nostrils  all 
blue,  dark,  death-like  blue.  Lotty  wrung  her  hands,  as  if  irre- 
pressibly. 

"  For  me,"  gasped  Philip,  "  for  me,  she  grieves  ;  Lotty,  the 
punishment  is  just,  that  this  woman  should  be  my  death.  But 
thanks  to  my  Father  in  heaven,  my  wife  on  earth,  I  die  happy." 

When  the  carriage  stopped  at  Mr.  Laird's  door,  whither  Bear 
had  gone  before,  and  brought  the  whole  household  there  with 
his  wild  baying,  Mr.  Laird  lifted  from  Lotty's  shoulder  the 
drooping  head  of  a  dead  man,  and  bore  the  lifeless  corpse  of 
Philip  Leigh  into  the  house,  while  Mrs.  Laird  folded  the  shud- 
dering, pale,  panic-stricken  Lotty  in  her  sheltering  arms,  and 
carried  her  up  to  her  own  bed. 

"  Dinna  greet,  my  lamb,  my  bonnie  bairn !  the  doctor  ay 
kenned  he  wad  gang  off  suddenly  ;  no  but  what  he  thought  him 
better,  or  he  wad  not  hae  let  ye  gang  yer  lane.  Weep  a  bit,  my 
birdie,  and  dinna  luik  so  starins:  like." 

"  It  was  so  horrible  !  "  murmured  Lotty. 

"  Like  enough,  my  wee  bit  angel  I  but  he  aye  had  time  to  say 
one  word  till  ye,  to  bid  ye  farewell." 


240  ^.  MARGARET 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Lotty,  eagerly,  '•' he  said  he  died  happy. 
But  is  he  dead?  arc  you  sure  he  is  dead?  O  !  let  me  go  to  him  ; 
he  may  be  calling  for  me." 

"  Ye  shall  come,  if  it  will  ease  you,  my  bairn,  and  may  be  it 
will  joost  open  the  tear-drops.  Dry  eyes  iu  muckle  sorrow  is 
aye  a  sign  o'  brain  mischief." 

Slie  again  lifted  up  the  little,  light  form,  and  carrying  her 
down  in  her  strong  arms,  she  held  her  tight,  Avliile  Lotty  looked 
at  the  line  but  lifeless  form  of  lier  husband,  stretched  on  the  bed 
he  had  left  that  morning  -with  renewed  signs  of  life  and  vigor. 

"Philip!  Philip!"  she  said. 

Tso  answer  :  the  dead  cannot  hear. 

"  O,  let  me  down,  Mrs.  Laird ;  let  me  speak  close  into  his 
ear." 

She  suffered  her  to  approach. 

As  Lotty  looked  at  the  calm,  dead  face,  with  the  smile  of  hap- 
piness yet  lingering  on  the  lips,  speaking  again  in  voiceless 
words,  •'  I  die  happy,"  the  tears  burst  forth  in  showers. 

"  Yes,  he  is  dead  !  he  is  really  dead  !  he  will  hear  my  voice  no 
more  ;  he  Avill  never  call  Lotty  again.  He  said  that  he  died 
happy,  and  I,  I  am  happy  that  he  so  died.  Farewell,  Philip, 
farewell !  You  will,  in  God's  own  time  and  of  his  merciful  good- 
ness, see  the  Lotty  you  loved  so  strangely,  again.  Then  shall 
we  be  as  the  angels  of  heaven,  and  part  no  more." 

Kissing  the  broad,  white,  death-stricken  brow,  Lotty  placed 
herself,  liked  a  tired  child,  iu  Mrs.  Laird's  sheltering  arms,  and 
said,  "  Now  take  me  away  and  love  me,  and  let  me  be  your 
child  until  they  come  for  me." 

'•  My  aiu  sweet  bairn  !  my  little  pet  lamb  !  "  murmured  Mrs. 
Laird,  as  she  carried  the  little  worn-out  frame  to  lier  bed  again  ; 
and  covering  her  up,  she  saw,  with  tears  of  pleasure,  that  the 
white  lids  closed,  the  sweet  face  gi-ew  calm,  the  pretty  lips  red, 
and  the  gentle  breath  went  to  and  fro  with  a  calm  regularity. 
Lotty  seemed  to  sleep  as  the  first  sleep  of  a  new-boru  baby,  half 
its  dreams  in  heaven. 

"While  she  was  yet  in  this  deep  slumber,  INIr.  Laird  was 
called  to  speak  to  an  ollicer  of  justice.  AVith  the  (piiet  common 
sense  peculiar  to  Scottish  character,  Mr.  Laird  licard  the  ollicial 
go  through  a  long  detail  of  crimes  and  assaults  committed  tiiat 
day  on  the  person  of  Madame  La  Luce,  whose  deposition  having 
been  taken,  a  warrant  was  issued  by  the  chief  magistrate  to  take 
up  tiie  body  of  the  offender,  and  commit  him  to  prison.  And 
]^Ir.  Laird  looked  at  tlie  warniut,  and  asscntinir  to  the  officer's 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  241 

remark,  that  all  was  apparently  perfectly  correct,  asked  quietly 
Avliat  further  he  wanted, 

"  I  want  the  oftender  ;  I  have  my  officers  here,  and  he  must 
go  from  hence  immediately  to  prison." 

"  Mr.  Philip  Leigh?  "  said  Mr.  Laird,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Philip  Leigh,  immediately ;  so  I  will  call  my 
assistants." 

"  There  is  no  occasion,"  said  Mr.  Laird  ;  "  follow  me." 

"  This  was  Mr.  Leigh,"  continued  Mr.  Laird,  pointing  to  the 
body,  stretched  out  in.  its  death-clothes.  "  Return  to  the  chief 
magistrate,  and  tell  him,  if  necessary,  I  will  call  and  explain  the 
whole  matter  to  him  ;  but  that  the  chief  offender  and  sinner  in 
this  case  is  Madame  La  Luce  herself.  That  fine  young  man 
owes  his  sudden,  fearful  death  to  her.  What  more  revenge 
wants  she  ?  " 

This  conversation  took  place  in  the  German  language  ;  and 
as  Mr.  Laird  poured  fortli  his  words  in  his  strong,  sonorous 
voice,  the  deep  emotions  of  the  day  adding  a  solemn  air  to  their 
effect,  the  officer  drew  back,  appalled  and  speechless. 


CHAPTER    LVIII. 

Mrs.  Laird  did  not  understand  Lotty's  character  yet.  After 
that  first  emotion  she  showed  no  more.  There  was  a  quiet  air 
of  content  about  her  that  provoked  Mrs.  Laird  beyond  measure. 
She  talked  of  Philip  in  a  manner  as  serene  and  cheerful  as  if  he 
were  still  up  stairs,  and  Avrote  all  her  letters  and  arranged  all  his 
affairs  without  a  tear.  She  seemed  rather  sorry  when  she  heard 
that  Madame  La  Luce's  leg  was  broken,  and  it  was  feared  she 
would  be  lame  for  life. 

"  Poor  thing  !  "   murmured  Lotty. 

"  Puir  thing,  indeed  !  ay,  bairn  ;  but  I  misdoubt  grief  has 
turned  yer  brain,  spaking  in  thon  daft  Avay." 

"Is  she  not  to  be  pitied,  Mrs.  Laird?  I  think  so,  for  many 
reasons." 

'•  Hoot  awa  !  set  her  oop  i'  the  cutty  stuil,  and  I  wadna  pity 
her  ;  she  letten  yer  bonny  Philip  dee  in  that  awfu  way,  and  no 
in  his  bed,  like  a  gude  Christian." 

''  But  still  she  is  to  be  pitied,"  persisted  Lotty.  "  Philip  is 
happy,  and  what  is  she  ?  " 

21 


242  Margaret 

"  Weel  awa !  ye're  past  my  kenning.  When  div  ye  think 
ye'll  hear  fra  your  friends  ?  " 

'•  lu  three  days  now,  I  hope,"  said  Lotty ;  "and  then  you 
vill  lose  your  phvgue  and  torment,  Mrs.  Laird,"  kissing  her. 

"  Eh  !  bairn,  ye  hae  coaxing  ways,  and  ^vi'  a'  your  queer 
doings,  I  am  like  to  Iiave  a  sair  heart  when  I  lose  the  sight  of 
ye.     De  ye  think  they'll  send  ony  body  to  fetch  ye?" 

"  O  yes  !  "  said  Lotty,  smiling. 

*' And  did  ye  tell  them  to  bring  ye  out  widow's  mourning? 
Here's  yer  husband  been  buried  these  ten  days,  and  ye  with  no 
crimped  cap  on  your  head.  lu  these  outlandish  pairts,  they 
dinna  ken  what  decency  is  ;  and  though  I  hae  gettin  you  a  guid 
silk  dress  of  a  deep  black,  with  yards  o'  crape,  not  in  the  hail 
town  could  I  get  yer  widow's  cap." 

"  But  do  you  think  my  curls  will  go  under  a  cap?  " 

"  Bairn  !  bairn  !  dinna  be  flighty  ;  we  can  cut  the  curls  off, 
but  ye  maun  be  decent  in  yer  weeds." 

"Cut  off  those  curls  !"  said  Mr.  Laird ;  "never.  I  would 
rather  cut  off  my  leg." 

"  Hoot,  man  !  dinna  spoil  the  bairn,  when  I  am  spending  xny 
breath  in  learning  her  her  duty.  But,  may  be,  ye  hae  sensible 
friends  as  will  teach  ye  aright.  Ye  have  nae  mither  ;  have  ye 
an  aunt  now  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lotty. 

"Nor  a  sister?" 

"  No." 

"  Nane  but  men  folks?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  some  aunts-in-law  and  cousins-in-law." 

"  And  Avha  dive  ye  think  wull  come  for  you?  though  I  wish 
the  day  may  be  far  off  yet." 

"  Perhaps  a  brother  will  come,  or,  perhaps,  two  ;  or  it  may  be 
one  of  my  imcles,  or,  probably,  a  cousin." 

"  Och  !  set  ye  up,  indeed  ;  de  ye  think  all  the  world  is  ready 
to   gang   clattering   o'er  foreign    pairts,   after   a  bit  thing   like 

you?'' 

"  Tlify  love  me  very  much." 

"  I'm  thinking  they  could  nae  help  it,"  said  Mr.  Laird. 

"  Now,  Alick,  dinna  flcech  lier  up  any  mair,  or,  may  be,  she 
will  be  ;,'ctting  o'er  full  o'  hersel',  spite  of  a'  my  counsels.  But 
save  us  !  Avhat's  at  tlie  door?  " 

L'jtty  ran  to  the  window,  as  the  noise  of  a  carriage  was  hoard 
rattling  up  the  street;  one  look,  and  she  bounded  out  of  the 
room,  down   the  stairs,  out  of  the   door,  and  when   Mrs.  Laird 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  243 

looked  out  after  her,  she  saw  her  in  the  arms   and  embraces  of 
so  many  people,  she  lost  sight  of  her  "  bairn"  altogether. 

Outstripping  the  post  by  two  days,  rivalling  the  wind  in  their 
intense  desire  to  get  on,  the  loving  Beaiivillians  had  come  for 
"  their  girl," 

Mrs.  Laird  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  best  parlor  floor. 

"  My  dear  uncle  Tom  !  Mrs.  Laird,"  said  the  sweet,  thrilling 
voice,  putting  the  large  Beauvillian  hand  of  fine,  tall,  bluff-look- 
ing uncle  Tom  into  hers.     Uncle  Tom  nearly  shook  it  off. 

"■  And  kind  uncle  Ned,"  bringing  forward  a  larger,  taller, 
more  radiant  uncle  Ned,  who  nearly  wrung  off  the  other  hand. 

"  And  my  two  brothers,  Norman  and  Walter,  and  cousin 
Frank  ;   dear,  dear  cousin  Frank  !  how  is  my  Pro.  ?  " 

And  Lotty  ran  from  one  to  the  other,  and  each  one  took  her 
up  in  his  great  arms,  and  would  have  gone  on  kissing  her,  if 
another  had  not  been  impatient  to  have  her ;  and  then,  at  inter- 
mediate times,  each  and  all  shook  hands  over  and  over  again 
with  the  amazed  and  astounded  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laird.  And  then 
they  all  shook  hands  with  each  other,  as  if  in  such  a  state  of 
congratulation  and  delight,  that  it  was  not  to  be  expressed  in 
any  other  form. 

"  We  shall  never  forget  your  kindness,"  said  uncle  Tom. 

"•Your  kindness  to  our  girl,  our  dearest  ti-easure,"  said  uncle 
Ned,  taking  up  the  measure. 

"  You  demand  our  everlasting  gratitude,"  exclaimed  Walter, 
going  on. 

"  I  am  your  servant  for  life,"  continued  Norman. 

"  Really  you  must  excuse  me,  I  am  so  overpowered  ;  will  you 
oblige  me  by  shaking  hands  again  ?  "  Avouud  up  Mr.  Frank. 

So  they  all  start  afresh,  and  then  calming  down  again,  they 
take  the  chairs  offered  mechanically  by  the  bewildered  hostess, 
and  then  they  look  at,  scrutinize,  with  fond  loving  eyes,  the 
change  in  "  their  girl." 

"bid  she  look  Avell?" 

"  Yes  ;  they  thought  she  did.  They  all  agreed  she  did  not 
look  ill."  So  they  all  thanked  and  shook  hands  again  with  the 
Lairds. 

"  Did  she  look  sorrowful?  " 

No  ;  shocking  as  it  is  to  allow  it  of  our  perfect  Lotty  (though 
perfect  people  are  very  disagreeable),  she  did  not  look  sorrow- 
ful. 

On  the  contrary,  her  heart  seemed  to  bloom  and  expand  under 
the  cheering,  happy  influence  of  her  own  people.     Mrs.  Laird 


244  MARGARET 

began  to  think  there  must  be  a  dozen  Lotties  in  the  room,  so 
bright,  so  t'airy-like  did  she  seem,  as  she  •went  from  one  to  the 
other. 

And  amazing  was  it  to  the  good  couple  to  see  how  first  one 
great,  fine,  tall  old  gentleman  -would  rise  from  his  chair,  and 
"wallc  across  the  room,  apparently  only  to  lay  the  large  hand  on 
the  curly  head,  perhaps  lilt  up  the  pretty  face  and  kiss  it,  and 
then  go  back  to  his  chair ;  while  another  rose  up  and  did  the 
very  same.  Until  at  last,  with  abrupt,  irrepressible  truth,  Mrs. 
Laird's  wonder  burst  out  into  Avords,  — 

"  Lord  save  us  ;  how  ye  do  love  that  bairn  !  " 

"  We  do  love  her,"  said  one  and  all ;  "  she  is  worthy  of  our 
love  ;  she  is  our  girl,  our  pride,  our  treasure  —  we  dote  on 
her." 

Then  was  Lotty  kissed  again  by  all ;  and  the  Lairds'  hands 
were  again  seized  and  shaken  vehemently. 

No  word  was  said  of  past  events,  no  question  asked  of  how 
and  why.  It  was  enough  to  the  Beauvillians  that  they  had  their 
girl  once  more  their  own  ;  it  Avas  enough  to  Lotty  that  she  had 
five  pair  of  strong,  brawny  arms,  not  to  be  matched  in  England, 
that  only  opened  to  present  her  with  a  home. 

"  Nae  Avonder,"  as  Mrs.  Laird  Avhispered  to  her  faithful  spouse, 
"that  the  bairn  Avas  unco  queer  in  her  Avays." 

But  Avlieu  tlie  good  Beauvillians  had  departed  for  the  night  to 
their  hotel,  inost  reluctant  to  leave,  but  most  determined  in  their 
purpose  not  to  tease  the  good  Lairds  Avith  their  board  and  lodg- 
ing, she  made  Lotty  sit  on  her  knee,  and  looking  into  her  sunny 
eyes,  said, — 

''  Bairn,  Avhat  are  ye  made  on  !  that  they  great  men-folk  love 
yer  littli'  finger  like  the  breath  of  Heaven?" 

"  1  do  nut  know,  Mrs.  Laird  ;  but  they  have  ahvays  done  so, 
and  I  love  them." 

"  I  dinna  Avonder  at  it.  Else  may  be  I  Avad  preach  ye  a  ser- 
mon this  night,  having  such  bonny,  bright,  griefless  eyes,  and 
yer  husband  no  in  his  grave  ten  days." 

"  Dear  ma'am,  Philip  would  marry  me,  and  Avould  not  Avait 
for  me  to  love  my  people  less,  and  him  more  ;  and  tluxt  made  us 
unhappy,  iK-cause,  ma'am,  ah  !  because  —  they  arc  so  good,  so 
true,  so  kind " 

"  Er-li  I  sirs,  they're  past  CA'crything;  dinna  ye  gang  now  to 
be  fleeclied  up  ;  ayes  me,  but  Avhat  am  T  saying  ;  fieeched  up, 
indeed,  blessings  on  the  bairn  !  I'm  thinking  yer  just  a  bit 
angel  slipt  away  from  Heaven,  and  given  to  them  fiiue,  heart- 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  245 

some  folk,  as  a  present  for  their  kindly  natures.  But  me,  how 
they  shak  honds  ;  save  us  !  I'll  never  recover  it.  But  I  see  it 
all  the  noo.  Nae  wonder  wi'  such  folk  ye  could  na  love  dark, 
gloomy  Philip  Leigh,  wi'  a'  his  grand  luiks.  My  word,  when 
you  and  they  were  allthegither  in  my  best  parlor,  I  thought  the 
gracious  sun  had  aye  come  in  at  the  winder  and  lighted  us  all  up. 
Ech !  lassie,  the  sight  o'  such  folk  does  ane  gude,  and  the  doc- 
tor's maist  demented  wi'  gladness  and  pride.  Little  did  we  twa 
think,  as  we  said  ye  suld  hae  our  blue  room,  what  a  treat  was 
in  store  for  us.  Whiles  I  feel  out  o'  myself,  and  Avhiles  I  feel 
just  like  a  drunken  body ;  but,  O,  bairn !  we  mauna  forget  the 
puir  lad  in  his  cauld  grave." 

That  the  loving  Beauvillians  had,  for  some  time,  fancied  their 
little  Lotty's  marriage  v.'as  concluded  with  rather  more  haste 
than  prudence,  could  not  be  denied. 

In  the  first  place,  unlike  themselves,  Philip  was  never  glad  to 
see  them,  never  asked  them  to  stay  with  him. 

In  the  second  place,  he  never  came  to  see  them,  or  brought 
their  and  his  Lotty  to  show  with  pride  and  pleasure  to  all  her 
doting  relatives. 

In  the  third  place,  he  had  carried  off  this  treasure,  so  beloved, 
without  warning,  without  leave.  Certainly  they  had  no  right 
to  expect  he  would  consult  them ;  but  it  had  grated  sore  in  their 
loving  hearts  that  such  an  important  matter  should  be  done, 
settled,  executed,  and  not  one  of  them  consulted,  not  one  al- 
lowed to  bid  her  farewell,  not  even  her  faithful  nurse  suffered 
to  accompany  her. 

It  required  all  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  so  overflowing  in 
the  Beauvillian  hearts,  to  prevent  them  from  thinking  of  Philip 
Leigh  in  a  way  that  was  quite  uncomfortable  to  their  jovial 
natures.  And  nothing  but  her  constant  and  happy  letters  pre- 
vented the  milk  from  turning  sour,  and  overwhelming  Philip 
Leigh  with  the  curds.  Not  that  they  had  wholly  left  their 
darling  Lotty  to  the  care  of  one,  about  whom  they  were  quite 
vmhappy  not  to  think  as  highly  of  as  they  did  of  the  rest  of  the 
world.  For,  unknown  to  her  or  Philip,  a  faithful  Beauvillian 
had  travelled  after  them,  and,  contenting  himself  with  seeing  that 
she  looked  well  and  happy,  had  returned  again  with  the  news  to 
his  anxious  brethren. 

It  was  contrary  to  their  open,  frank  natures  to  ask  any 
questions,  or  to  appear  to  pry  into  things  that  were  not  brought 
under  their  immecMate  eyes,  so  that  they  felt  but  little  more  than 
21* 


246  MARGARET 

a  va<;uo  notion,  their  Lotty  liad  belter  be  under  the  care  of  the 
smallest,  most  insignifieaut  Beaiivillian,  than  "vvedded  to  the 
handsome,  distinguished-looking  Philip  Leigh. 

Now,  they  were  so  happy  to  have  her  once  more  their  own, 
it  was  enough  for  them. 

Philip  might  have  been  imkind,  morose,  dull,  but  he  was  dead. 
Tlie  grave  was  sacred  to  them,  and  whatever  feeling  they  might 
have  had,  was  only  expi-essed  by  the  perversity  Avith  which  they 
one  and  all  seemed  to  think  she  was  still  Miss  Beauvilliers. 
And  when  convicted  of  their  mistake  by  the  servant  saying  no 
such  person  liad  any  boxes  there,  no  one  was  in  the  house  of 
that  name,  they  only  said  in  excuse,   "  Ah  !   we  mean  Lotty." 

While  making  preparations  for  her  return  home,  which  was 
to  be  immediate,  both  on  account  of  their  anxiety  to  restore  her 
at  once  to  her  people,  and  because  of  some  little  domestic  event 
about  to  happen  in  Mr.  Frank's  family  —  Lotty  heard  all  the 
news  of  everybody. 

"  My  dearest  Georgiua  insisted  upon  my  coming,  though  I 
felt  that  even  you,  dear  Lotty,  would  have  forgiven  me,  had  I 
so  far  restrained  my  impatient  feelings  on  account  of  Georgina's 
interesting  situation.  But  Avhcn  we  received  your  letter,  Avhen 
we  felt  that  you  must  be  brought  home,  brought  home  properly  ; 
though  at  first  there  were  far  too  raanv  of  us  who  had  settled  to 
come,  my  dearest  Georgina  said,  '  You  must  be  one  of  those 
chosen,  you  must  go  to  our  darling  Lotty  ;  for  if  you  don't,  you 
shall  not  have  the  girl  you  wish  ibr.'  Think  of  my  dear  Georgiua 
saying  that !  she  did,  indeed  ;  and  I  thanked  her  from  my  heart. 
And  whether  she  gives  me  a  girl  or  not,  I  shall  be  grateful  to 
Georgina  all  my  life  for  permitting  me  to  be  one  of  the  favored, 
happy  few  to  escort  you  home,  dear  Lotty." 

The  Beauvillians  created  quite  a  sensation  in  Ilomberg.  They 
visited  Lottv's  old  lodgings,  and  left  substantial  marks  of  tlieir 
having  boon  there,  to  the  inhabitants  thereof.  They  went  to  see 
the  good  old  Bonne,  and  besides  giving  her  such  a  donation  that 
she  had  never  before  beheld  so  much  money  at  one  time,  they 
emptied  a  shop  of  its  bonbons,  and  distributed  them  among  tlie 
children  under  hor  charge,  wiio  had  contributed,  though  in  so 
small  a  degree,  to  their  Lotty's  happiness.  But  they  thereby 
cudaugerod  their  lives  for  Aveeks  to  come,  except  that  children's 
stomachs  are,  through  some  wise  provision,  made  to  contain  an 
incredible  auiomit  of  sugar-phuus. 

As  for  the  good  Lairds,  it  seemed  to  them  that  some  genial 
spirit  had  taken  entire  and  full  possession  of  their  house,  while 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  247 

the  beaming  presence  of  the  fine  felloAvs  remained  there.  And 
tlie  gratitude  llicy  expressed !  Besides  perpetual  shaking  of 
hands  (indeed,  if  he  had  only  been  encouraged,  Mr.  Frank 
looked  as  if  lie  could  gladly  salute  the  chaste  but  withered  cheek 
of  Mrs.  Laird),  the  -whole  set  of  Beauvillians,  in  full  conclave, 
presented  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laird  with  a  very  handsome  present  in 
money  to  indemnify  them  for  all  the  trouble  and  anxiety  they 
must  have  had  with  their  Lotty. 

Not  that  they  believed  she  was  a  trouble  or  anxiety,  or  that 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laird  were  so  foolish  as  to  think  they  did  do  so  ; 
but  it  was  just  their  way,  to  remove  any  idea  of  gi'atitude. 

And,  as  if  that  was  not  enough,  each  Beauvillian,  in  secret  and 
privately,  presented  Mrs.  Laird  with  a  present  of  tlieir  own,  just 
as  if  that  one,  individually,  was  more  indebted  to  her  kindness 
than  all  the  others. 

And  Avhen  she  would  have  expostulated  as  she  received  the 
third  secret  present,  and  openly  said  hov\r  she  had  received  tAvo 
besides,  she  was  not  even  listened  to. 

"Of  course,  of  course — vejy  right!  I  knew  my  kinsmen 
would  not  forget  such  a  duty ;  and  you  must  be  kind  enough  to 
keep  our  presents  as  a  remembrance  of  us." 

As  if  she  was  ever  likely  to  forget  them  !  And  so  all  things 
being  ready,  after  a  leave-taking  tliat  was  enough  to  shake  the 
nerves  of  the  winged  Nine\'eh  bull,  if  it  had  any,  Mrs.  Laird 
found  herself  sitting  in  the  middle  of  her  parlor  floor,  drowned 
in  tears,  and  Mr.  Laird  endangering  his  limbs  and  his  life,  by 
stretching  so  far  out  of  the  window  to  take  a  last  look,  wave  a 
last  adieu. 

But  they  had  not  departed  without  leaving  a  token  of  respect, 
at  least,  to  the  memory  of  the  mistaken,  self-sacrificed  Philip 
Leisfh. 

Lotty's  last  act  was  to  put  a  packet  into  Mrs.  Laird's  hand, 
saying,  "  You  will  see  a  proper  monument  put  up,  and  every- 
thing done  just  as  if  he  Avere  your  '  bairn.'  " 


CHAPTER     LIX. 

Loving  and  lovely  Margaret,  with  your  shadowy  form,  your 
ethereal  face,  your  gentle,  calm  submission,  your  pure  faith, 
your  pious  patience,  let  us  return  to  you. 


248  MARGARET 

Basil  had  found  the  sea  strewn  with  light  floating  articles 
belonging  to  the  "  Marguerite,"  too  surely  indicating  her  fate, 
and  selecting  from  these  one  or  two  Avell-known  articles,  had 
placed  them,  as  wc  have  seen,  in  that  abrupt  manner  before 
Lady  Katheriue. 

There  might  seem  a  degree  of  cruelty  in  this  act,  especially  as 
Margaret,  all  unknowing  to  him,  had  witnessed  the  scene.  But 
they  had  rightly  judged  her  character  ;  pity  and  sorrow  for  the 
poor  mother  made  her  lock  up  in  her  innermost  heart  the  grief 
and  loneliness  she  was  to  carry  to  her  grave.  She  felt  that  they 
had  meant  to  shock  the  mother's  feelings  for  a  peculiar  purpose, 
and  divined  the  cause. 

No  murmur  escaped  her  lips,  no  duty  was  left  undone.  True 
to  her  tmsclfish  nature,  she  urged  Gerald  with  fervor  to  remove 
Millicent  at  once  to  a  warmer  climate.  Her  delicate  frame 
seemed  to  suffer  for  those  she  loved,  even  more  apparently  than 
the  mourners  themselves.  Yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  they 
saAV  Margaret  growing  thinner  and  paler  every  day,  presenting 
the  appearance  of  a  living,  moving  body,  but  the  soul  was  far 
away.  To  Basil  it  seemed  as  if  in  her  eyes  there  always  dwelt 
the  scene  of  the  heaving,  restless  sea,  bearing  within  its  bosom 
that  beloved  form. 

"  She  will  die,  if  Ave  cannot  do  something  to  change  her 
thoughts  and  feelings.     If  Lotty  were  but  here  now  !  " 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Millicent,  "  she  has  never  mentioned 
Lotty.  I  do  not  like  to  do  so  ;  in  fact,  I  dare  scarcely  speak ; 
it  seems  to  me  that  but  a  cobweb  thread  holds  her  life  and 
reason." 

"  Yes,  her  sensitive  nature  suffers  when  all  is  calm  ;  unlike 
the  violent  outpourings  of  poor  Lady  Katheriue,  that  fortunately 
.weaken  themselves  by  their  very  vehemence." 

"  I  am  glad  Mr.  Grey  is  to  live  in  the  house  with  Lady 
Katlieriue,  she  seems  to  have  taken  so  great  a  fancy  to  him." 

"  Yes,  Milly,  so  now  you  and  Gerald  may  leave  with  comfort ; 
and  the  sooner  you  go,  remember,  the  more  you  please  Marga- 
ret.     I  should  like  when  I  see  her  to-dav  to  say  you  are  aone." 

"  Do  so,  Basil  ;  for  it  was  but  the  i)ain  of  leave-taking  tliat 
has  made  us  linger.  We  are  all  ready,  and  ouly  last  night 
agreed  it  wouM  be  best  to  depart  in  secrecy." 

"  Much  belter.  None  of  our  nerves  at  present  can  stand  much 
more  strain  on  them.  I  will  spend  an  hour  or  two  with  Mar- 
garet, and  will  then  follow  you  to  Liverpool.  She  will  be  inter- 
ested to  hear  the  last  news  of  you." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  249 

It  was  thus  they  cared  for  and  thought  of  their  poor  stricken 
jMar2faret. 

"When  Basil  joined  them  at  Liverpool,  he  told  Millicent  that 
Margaret  seemed  relieved  by  knowing  they  Avere  gone,  and, 
taking  advantage  of  the  moment,  lie  had  spoken  to  her  of  Lotty. 

A  slight  flush  rose  on  the  ■while  cheek,  the  eyes  lost  that  ever- 
searching,  mournful  look,  but  all  she  said  was,  "  My  Lotty  will 
come  to  me  Avhcn  she  can." 

"  Thus,  Milly,  we  can  liope  for  no  particular  change  just  yet. 
"When  the  little,  bright,  cl.eerful  spirit  joins  her  Margaret,  we  may 
expect  some  good,  for  she  always  seemed  to  divine  Avhat  her 
school-wife  most  love-.!." 

"  You  will  write  tu  Lotty,  Basil?" 

"  I  hardly  think  so  ;  she  has  enough  to  bear  without.  Now, 
Milly,  farewell ;  I  need  scarcely  say  to  you  that  you  have  no 
easy  task  before  you,  for  Gerald  bears  within  his  breast  a  bruised 
and  contrite  heart." 

"  You  are  right,  brother.  Until  he  meets  Harold  face  to  face 
before  the  judgment-throne  of  God,  he  will  never  cease,  wliile 
breath  is  giveu  him,  to  implore  mercy  and  pardon  for  the  share 
he  thinks  he  has  had  in  Harold's  fate." 

So  Margaret's  mother  came  to  live  with  her,  and  the  bleak 
December  passed  away,  bringing  in  a  stormy,  violent  January. 

She  had  been  to  her  nursery  to  Avatch  her  fine  boy  enjoy  his 
dinner ;  she  had  looked  into  the  cot  that  contained  a  rosy,  sleep- 
ing babe,  Avhose  red  lip  Avas  ncA-er  to  be  pressed  by  a  father's 
kiss ;  she  had  seen  her  stcAvard,  and  transacted  all  her  business 
with  him  ;  she  had  read  to  her  mother  the  psalms  and  lessons  of 
the  day  ;  and  Avith  the  same  dreamy  air,  and  quiet,  listless  man- 
ner, she  called  for  her  bonnet  and  shawl  to  take  her  daily  Avalk. 

"  The  sleet  drives  in  great  gusts,"  remonstrated  the  nurse  ; 
"  you  Avill  take  cold,  my  lady." 

"  I  cannot  take  cold,"  ansAvered  her  lady,  mechanically. 

"  The  gardener  says  there  Avill  be  soon  a  lieaA-y  fall  of  snoAV, 
my  lady." 

"  Does  he?"  ansAvered  Margaret,  still  as  in  a  dream,  while 
she  put  on  her  bonnet.     "  Do  not  take  the  children  out,  then." 

And  she  Avent. 

"  One  Avould  suppose  she  never  heeded  what  I  Avas  saying," 
murmured  the  nurse  ;  "  and  yet  she  must  have  done  so  to  have 
remembered  the  children.  The  Lord  touch  her  heart  Avith  life 
again,  for  it  is  sore  to  see  her  thus  !  " 

Margaret   Avent   to   Eose   Leigh,  her   daily  custom.      Lady 


250  MARGARET 

Catherine,  as  usual,  received  her  as  if  tliey  had  not  met  for 
years,  installed  her  in  her  own  chair,  and  hovered  about  her  as 
a  loving  hen  guards  the  one  nestling  left  her.  Pru.  was  in  an 
excited  state  to-day,  and  had  a  great  deal  to  tell  Margaret.  la 
fact,  ever  since  the  departure  of  Mr.  and  jNIrs.  Herbert,  and  the 
arrival  of  ]Mr.  Grey,  Pru.  had  been  growing  more  and  more 
enigmatical  in  her  conduct.  And  had  Margaret  ever  heard  the 
episode  of  the  curate,  absorbed  as  she  was,  she  must  have  no- 
ticed Pru.'s  manner. 

"  I  have  heard  from  dear  Georgina,"  said  Pru.  "  Frank  has 
left  her  for  a  short  time." 

"  Indeed,"  answered  ^NTargarot, 

"  Mr.  Grey  is  so  much  liked  among  the  people,  my  dear 
daughter,"  said  Lady  Katherine. 

"  Ah  !  "  answered  Margaret,  unheeding  Pru.'s  violent  blush. 

"  There  are  snow  drops  appearing  already,  dear  Margaret, 
cold  as  the  weather  is." 

"  Is  it  cold?"  said  Margaret. 

"  Mr.  Grey  said  it  Avas  bitterly  cold,"  continued  Lady  Kath- 
erine, "  and  he  is  the  best  judge  of  weather  I  know." 

Again  Pru.  flushed  and  grew  pale. 

"  Shall  I  walk  back  with  you,  dear  Margaret?  " 

"  If  you  please,"  was  her  quiet  answer. 

Duriug  this  walk,  which  lasted  much  longer  than  from  Rose 
Leigh  to  Court  Leigh,  Pru.'s  excitement  broke  out  into  one 
incessant  chatter,  in  which  a  certain  pronoun,  he,  was  mixed  up 
with  everything  on  which  she  discoursed,  and  which  on  less  un- 
heeding ears  would  have  divulged  poor  Pru.'s  secret.  Once  only 
did  ^Margaret  show  interest. 

"  It  was  Lotty's  doing,  all  dear,  darling  Lotty's  plan,"  said 
Pru. 

"  "What  plan?  "  asked  Margaret. 

"  Why,"  answered  Pru.,  bhisliing  vehemently,  at  being  asked 
a  question  she  did  not  expect,  "■  that  he  came." 

"  My  Lotty  came?  "  asked  Margaret,  in  perplexity. 

"  No,  no,  though  I  wish  in  my  heart  she  had,  then  all  woidd 
go  right ;  but  it  snows  hard  now,  dear  Margaret,  so  I  will  run 
home,  as  you  must  go  in." 

Margaret  did  not  go  in,  she  liked  the  wild  weather  ;  it  brought 
a  pulse  of  life  in  her  heart  to  watch  the  wintry  elements.  They 
scenjed  typical  of  her  own  withered  hopes. 

"  Lotty,"  she  said  to  herself,  unconsciously,  "  my  Lotty  !  I 
wish  she   would  come.     It  seems  to   me,  her  presence  would 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  251 

prove  to  me  like  the  first  snowdrop  of  spring,  seen  in  this  win- 
try weather.  Ah !  Lotty,  if  you  were  here,  perhaps  you  could 
devise  some  means  by  which  I  could  visit  tliat  spot,  behold  with 
my  own  eyes  if  the  sea  can  give  me  up  no  message  from  her 
dead.  If  I  could  have  something  ;  even  in  the  hour  of  utmost 
danger,  he  would  have  written  to  his  j\Iargaret,  he  would  have 
sent  me  some  last  directions  safely  enclosed  within  some  floating 
casket.  I  know,  I  feel  sure  there  is  such,  and  if  Lotty  were 
here  — -  " 

"  She  is  here,  Queen  Margaret,  these  are  her  arms  round  you, 
her  kisses  pouring  on  you  —  but  stay  —  say  nothing,  speak  not 
to  her,  for  there  is  your  treasure,  your  message  from  tlie  dead. 
Your  Lotty  would  have  been  here  before,  but  that  she  knew 
what  her  Margaret  wanted.  She  went,  she  sought,  she  has 
found  it.  Take  it,  sweetest,  dearest  mourner  !  Basil  was  the 
real  discoverer,  your  Lotty  only  the  diviner ;  now,  here,  in  the 
little  s\immer-house,  you  will  be  alone,  unwatched,  unseen. 
God  bless  my  Margaret !  " 

And  Lotty,  placing  in  Margaret's  trembling  hands  an  oil-skin 
packet,  directed  to  her,  kissed  her  cheek  with  passionate  fond- 
Bess,  and  left  her  alone. 

First  Lotty  went  to  the  nursery,  and  kissing  young  Harold, 
took  her  little  goddaughter  in  her  arms,  and  said,  "  This  is  my 
child,  nurse." 

"  God  be  praised  for  it,  ma'am !  and,  more  than  all,  that  you 
have  come  back.  We  have  looked  for  no  change  in  our  dear 
lady  xmtil  you  could  arrive." 

"  God  has  been  very  good  in  giving  me  the  power  to  bring 
her  a  last  token  of  remembrance  from  her  husband." 

"  Heaven  be  praised  !  'twas  all  she  wanted."  And  the  tears 
fell  in  showers  from  the  good  nurse's  eyes. 

Lotty  now  went  across,  spite  of  the  driving  snow,  to  Rose 
Leigh.  She  peeped  in  at  the  window,  and  saw  Lady  Katheriue, 
with  her  feet  and  nose  comfortably  near  the  fire,  knotting  away 
with  an  indefatigable  perseverance  worthy  a  great  cause.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  fire,  equally  comfortable,  sat  a  gentleman ! 
The  sound  of  his  strong,  sonorous  voice  came  through  the  win- 
dow ;  he  was  reading  aloud.  Rather  behind  her  mother  sat 
Pru.,  who  ought  to  have  been  knotting;  "  but  0  !  "  as- Lotty 
upbraided  her  afterwards,  "  her  knotting  was  on  the  floor,  and 
she  was  gazing,  unabashed,  on  the  face  of  a  young  man,  not 
more  than  forty  years  of  age." 

Lotty  went  quietly  into  the  room,  but  Pru.  was  not  so  ab- 
sorbed in  her  occupation  as  to  forget  old  friends. 


252  MARGARET 

"  Dearest,  dear  Lotty  !  you  liavc  returned  to  us  at  last ;  "  and 
the  knotting  became  inextricably  entangled  in  the  legs  of  two 
chairs,  as  Pni.  sprung  nimbly  round  them,  to  embrace  her. 

Y\'ilh  toucliing,  childlike  feeling.  Lady  Katherine  looked  at 
the  little  girlish  thing,  and  .said,  "  My  dear,  don't  kiss  me,  do 
not  be  kind  to  me,  for  I  am  a  very  unworthy,  wicked  woman  ! 
I  love  to  sec  your  sweet  face  again  ;  we  have  been  longing  for 
you,  but  I  have  widowed  your  Margaret  ;  I,  I  have  broken  her 
heart.     O,  my  son,  my  son,  my  only  son  !  " 

"  But  I  will  kiss  my  Margai-et's  mother  thus  and  thus,  and  I 
love  Harold's  mother  as  if  she  were  my  own,  and  I  bring  her 
the  greatest  comfort  she  can  now  have,  a  last  fond  letter  from 
her  son,  full  of  love  and  forgiveness,  I  know." 

"  Where?  —  O,  where?  —  let  me  sec  the  blessed  words  !  " 

"  INIargaret  has  the  letters  ;  we  must  leave  her  alone  with  her 
treasure  as  yet." 

"  O,  Lotty  !  how  did  you  get  them  ?  "  asked  Pru. 

"  Basil  has  written  to  me  constantly  all  the  news  from  here, 
and  all  he  knew  of  tliat  fatal  night.  He  felt  that  some  of  these 
days  Margaret  might  like  to  know  every  particular ;  then  I 
should  be  able  to  tell  her,  or  to  show  her  the  letters.  He  has 
collected  every  paper,  every  account,  every  circumstance  that 
occurred  to  our  Harold  from  the  time  he  left  home,  luitil  that 
fatal  Thursday  night.  From  that  time  he  has  given  me  a  his- 
tory of  his  own  voyage,  when  Gerald  accompanied  him.  Again  of 
a  second  one,  when  he  discoveicd  the  fatal  truth,  and  found  those 
few  sad  remains  ;  and  among  other  things  that  he  has  collected, 
is  the  figure-head  of  the  '  Marguerite.'  The  instant  I  knew  this, 
I  called  to  mind  several  tilings  that  I  had  heard  poor  Harold 
say  of  this  figure-head.  How  he  had  had  infinite  pains  taken 
"with  it,  so  that  it  should  resemble  Margaret  in  attitude^nd  face. 
How  he  should  consider  it  as  his  guardian  angel,  and  that  it 
might  indeed  prove  so  to  him,  for  it  Avas  constructed  in  a  pecu- 
liar manner.  Further,  I  remember  in  particular,  he  said,  — 
'  The  image  of  my  Margaret  shall  never  be  destroyed  or  Avreckcd. 
It  siuill  float,  though  all  the  rest  of  the  vessid  is  riven  in  pieces  ; ' 
eo  on  my  roud  home,  we  appointed  Basil  to  meet  us  at  Cowes, 
and  there,  in  the  '  Ripple,'  Avas  laid  all  that  remained  of  the  ill- 
fated  •  ^Marguerite' " 

''  Proceed,  dear,  dear  Lotty  ;   O.  finish  your  tale  !  " 

The  heroic  little  Lolty  was  stifling  her  tears. 

'' Tiie  figure-head  of  the  ship  was  so  like  my  Margaret;  her 
small,  graceful  head  just  turned  and  bent,  as  if  in  the  act  of  lis^ 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  253 

tening ;  the  slight  hands  touching,  half  laced  together  by  the 
fingers,  her  own  peculiar  attitude,  as  you  know.  But  Basil  won- 
dered why  I  examined  it  so  minutely. 

"  '  See,  Basil,'  I  said,  'it  has  not  been  separated  from  the  ship 
by  violence  or  blows.  It  has  been  carefully  unscrewed  and  sent 
adrift.' 

"  '  You  are  right,  Lotty,'  he  answered,  '  and  these  hollow 
tubes  must  have  gone  through  the  beams.  The  screws  must 
have  penetrated  to  the  cabin,  or  been  fastened  from  there.' 

"  '  And  unfastened  again.  Let  us  sound  it,  it  is  almost  hollow 
within.'  " 

"  Suffice  it  to  say,  we  found  a  spring,  which  opened  to  us  the 
hollow  cavity,  that,  filled  with  air,  caused  the  figure-head  to  float 
so  buoyantly  when  all  heavier  things  w^ere  swallowed  up  in 
those  shifting  sands.  And  within  was  also  Harold's  last  mes- 
saore  to  Margaret.     I  have  brought  it  and  given  it  to  her." 

"  Ah,  Lotty  !  best  Lotty,  you  are  well-named,  but  my  son  can 
send  nothing  but  upbraidings  to  his  mother.  Nevertheless  I 
will  meekly  receive  them  ;  if  my  poor,  dear,  widowed  Margaret 
forgives  me,  and  has  fond  messages  to  her  from  his  watery 
grave,  I  shall  be  very  grateful  to  a  merciful  God.  It  will  be 
quite  as  much  as  I  deserve." 

"  God  afflicts  none  more  than  they  are  able  to  bear,  dear  Lady 
Katherine,"  said  Mr.  Grey. 

"  I  feel  that ;  nay,  I  know  it.  "What  ought  I  not  to  suffer? 
yet  how  am  I  blessed  !  " 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  find  Mr.Grey  is  living  with  you,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Under  God's  blessing,  he  has  saved  my  soul,  dear  Lotty  ! 
from  very  sinful  murmurings  and  despair.  I  was  almost  lost  in 
every  way,  for  my  Margaret  was  too  good  to  me." 

"  He  is  very  good  and  kind  to  us  both,"  murmured  Pru., 
blushing  violently. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  he  is  kind  to  you,"  whispered  Lotty 
back  again.  "^ 

With  all  her  tender  heart  and  melting  sorrow,  some  things 
bewitched  little  Lotty  into  being  mischievous. 

"When  shall  I  see  my  Margai'et  ?"  began  Lady  Katherine, 
with  nervous  tremor. 

"  We  must  not  disturb  her,"  answered  Lotty  ;  "  when  she  is 
calm,  she  will  join  us.  If  she  has  comfort  to  bestow,  so  much 
the  sooner  will  she  come." 

"  How  well  you  know  her  character,"  said  Mr.Grey;  "it 
seems  strange  that  one  so  faultless  should  be  thus  tried." 
22 


254  MARGARET 

"  Pure  gold  is  tried  in  the  fire,"  nnswercd  Lotty. 

"  Lotty,"  i?aid  Lady  Ivatlicriue,  abruptly,  "  where  is  Philip?" 

The  little  childish  thing  looked  up  with  amazement  for  a 
moment — then  she  glanced  at  her  black  dress. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  he  was  ill,  dead,"  contimied  Lady  Kath- 
erine  ;  *•  but  I  ana  grown  so  selfish,  so  absorbed,  you  must  for- 
give me,  dear  child.  You  have  no  wliite  cap  on  your  head  like 
my  3Iargaret :  your  pretty  curls  are  as  usual ;  I  trust  he  may 
be  spared  to  you,  poor,  little,  young  thing  I  " 

The  color  deepened  in  Lotty's  cheeks  until  they  bloomed  like 
winter  roses.     Then  she  said,  — 

"  I  have  come  home  to  be  once  more  Margaret's  little  school- 
husbaml,  for  we  are  both  alone  now  ;  God  has  taken  Philip 
Leigh  to  his  rest." 

In  the  little  summer-house  did  the  widowed  Margaret  read 
this  letter,  a  message  sent  by  the  sea  from  her  dead. 

"  Margaret !  what  is  this  I  have  to  do  ?  I  have  written  to 
you  before.  Thank  God!  I  Avrote  from  Jersey;  a  letter  — 
such  a  letter  as  I  ought  to  "write  to  my  Margaret.  And  now 
but  a  few  days  are  passed  since  that  Avas  penned  and  sent ;  and 
in  this  scrawled,  blotted,  stained  sheet  of  paper,  you  are  to  take 
my  last  message,  the  only  letter  you  will  ever  receive  from  the 
Harold  you  loved  so  well,  the  last  token  of  his  love  for  you. 

"  O  Fate  !  Fate  !  could  you  pour  no  other  vial  of  Avrath  on  my 
devoted  head?  "NVas  the  measure  of  my  sins  so  great,  that  I 
Avas  to  bear  for  three  days  (each  a  lifetime)  alternate  hope  and 
despair ;  gleams  of  strength  and  resignation  ;  hours  of  horror 
and  remorse  ;  every  feeling  that  can  lacerate  the  lunnan  heart, 
yet  bid  it  hope  against  hope  ;  was  I  to  bear  all  this  Avith  a  man's 
■weak  8]:irit,  only  to  learn  that  death  is  about  to  part  me  and 
thee,  Margaret?  One  man  on  board  —  but  one  —  announces 
that  nothing  can  save  us.  But  he  is  the  only  experienced  sailor 
Ave  have,  and  my  reason  bids  nj^  feel  and  know  that  his  Avords 
are  true.  I  see  the  drift  of  the  under-current,  ignorant  sailor  as 
I  am.  T  Avatcli  the  light  articles  tossed  over  ;  they  all  float  one 
Avay,  to  a  doom  that  is  inevitable.  Let  me  collect  my  thoughts, 
let  me  strive  to  take  leave  of  my  Margaret  as  befits  her  husband. 
An  in-esistiljlc  im])nlse  bids  nic  write  ;  all  these  three  days  it 
lias  urg(Ml  me  likf  the  shai-p  prii-k  of  consciencte.  T  obey  ;  inco- 
herent, hasty,  desponding  and  despairing  us  my  Avords  may  be,  I 
Avrite  to  Margand,  my  Avife,  my  fond,  loving  Avife  !  O  God  ! 
Avilt  thou  not  hear  my  prayer?     Let  me   see  her  again,  for  her 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  255 

own  sweet  sake,  not  mine.  One  word,  one  look,  'tis  all  I  ask. 
A  slight  i)i-eparatiou  !  she  can  have  none  ;  it  is  impossible  :  naked, 
plain,  in  all  its  stern  truth,  the  fact  ^^  ill  be  told  her,  as  in  a 
breath,  '  Your  Harold  is  dead,  drowned — drowned  in  the  very 
yessel  he  made  your  rival ! '  How  she  will  feel  for  nie  !  how 
she  will  gasp  and  say,  '  lu  any  other  way,  O  God  !  I  could  have 
borne  it  better ;  but  not  from  his  own  wilfulness,  not  his  own 
headstrong  will.' 

"  But,  Margaret,  I  can  comfort  you  there.  'Tis  true,  my 
mother's  letter  di'ove  me  away.  I  expected  an  answer  from 
you  to  that  I  wrote  from  Jersey — (I  love  to  think  upon  that 
letter,  it  was  a  fitting  one  for  you)  —  and  I  received  hers  ;  only 
that  one  from  my  mother,  and  a  message  from  you  in  it.  A 
newspaper,  too,  Avitli  that  lie !  those  lies !  Did  you  believe 
them?  O,  no!  no!  mad,  fierce,  wild  as  was  my  passion,  in 
the  midst  of  all  it  drove  me  to  do,  one  small  voice  would  repeat, 
'  Margaret  loves  you !  Margaret  trusts  you !  why  care  for 
others  ? ' 

"  But  I  must  needs  get  away  into  the  wide,  open  sea,  out  of 
sight  of  land ;  that  land,  which  held  so  true  and  fond  a  Avife  and 
mother  !  So  I  gave  the  order,  and  when  we  were  many  hours 
away,  I  went  on  deck  to  breathe  and  think.  The  wind  blew  in 
fitful  gusts  —  it  cooled  my  brain.  Suddenly,  a  sweeping,  soft 
air  came  rushing  by,  as  if  stirred  by  angels'  wings,  and  a  voice 
seemed  to  speak  to  my  heart, — 

"  '  Remember  Margaret's  state.  Think  of  her  tender,  sensi- 
tive nature.  The  word  that  attainted  her  Harold's  name  would 
be  as  a  sword  entering  her  heart.' 

"And  so,  Margaret,  as  if  the  touch  of  the  Saviour  had  driven 
the  demon  from  his  hold,  and  the  holy  words  had  dismissed  and 
rebuked  him,  did  I  become  calm  and  in  my  right  mind.  I  gave 
the  order  to  return  at  once,  and  went  down  to  my  cabin  and 
thanked  God.  I  then  saw  it  all.  My  mother  so  angry  ;  my 
Margaret  so  hurt  with  her  ;  perhaps  she  had,  all  unfit  as  she 
was,  travelled  to  Cowes,  to  meet  and  console,  and  love  more 
fondly  than  ever,  her  wayward,  but  not  wicked,  Hai'old  —  her 
traduced,  foully-slandered  Harold.  But  a  fear  crept  in  silently, 
fixedly,  the  shock  might  have  been  too  much.  My  Margaret  is 
so  very  tender,  so  sensitive  for  her  Harold,  Perhaps  she  had 
gone  already  to  heaven,  taking  with  her  a  little,  blighted  blos- 
som. Perhaps  those  two  stars  were  her  seraph  eyes,  beaming 
down  on  me,  and  bidding  me  prepare.  Those  stars  I  saw  but 
three  nights  ago.    If  so,  Death,  I  welcome  thee,  hideous  as  thou 


256  MARGARET 

hast  presented  thyself.  I  am  calmer.  I  Avas  going  to  comfort 
you  ;  perhaps  there  is  no  need  for  me  to  do  so  ;  but  my  mother 
—  poor  mother  !  she  meant  nothing,  I  know.  If  I  had  reached 
home  ■vvithin  an  hour  after  sending  tliat  letter,  I  should  still 
have  been  her  dear  son.  So  I  wish  it  known  to  all,  that  not  on 
me  rests  the  sin  of  hurrying  all  these  unprepared  souls  to  their 
last  account. 

"I  said  I  gave  the  order  for  the  ship  to  return,  and  went 
down  to  my  cabin.  My  company  were  not  congenial  to  my 
present  thoughts,  and  I  remained  for  many  hours ;  until  I 
thouirht  we  miLrht  see  lis^hts  on  the  island. 

"  All  was  wild,  dark,  stormy  ;  a  desert  of  sea  and  waves. 

"  '  "When  shall  we  reach  Cowes  ?  '  I  asked  of  the  helmsman. 

"  '  Cowes  !  we  had  a  second  order  from  you,  through  one  of 
the  young  ladies,  to  keep  our  course  for  Holland.' 

"  So,  Margaret,  they  did  it.  Let  them  weep  and  Avail.  Let 
them  upbraid  and  weary  Heaven  Avith  their  cries  ;  on  their  oavti 
shoulders  rests  their  doom. 

"  They  thought  I  Avas  actuated  by  Avhim,  in  going  out  to 
sea  ;  they  had  a  whim  not  to  return.  Thus  are  AVe  lost  through 
folly. 

"  And  Mr.  Clare  ;  to  him  we  owe  it  that  Ave  have  so  poor 
a  creAv,  a  captain  utterly  Aveak  and  incapable,  ignorant  even  to 
my  OAvn  extent  of  nautical  matters.  But  one  man  on  board 
knows  these  fatal  sands.  A  greater  man  than  I  am  once  es- 
caped them.  "Why  should  not  Ave?  I  must  hope.  God  ueA'er 
gave  me  such  a  gift  as  Margaret  —  to  tear  me  from  her  thus. 
And  yet  I  valued  her  not.  O  God !  if  I  see  her  once  again  — 
if  I  hold  her  once  more  in  these  arms,  second  to  thee  only  shall 
she  be  !  She  Avill  teach  me  to  Avorship  and  praise  thee.  Poor 
Gerald  !  Tell  him  the  promise  has  come  true  —  '  He  has  cast 
his  bread  upon  the  Avaters,  it  Avill  not  return  to  him  Aoid.'  I 
remember  scoflhig  at  his  text  —  '  Make  Thou  Thy  servant  to 
delight  in  that  Avhich  is  good.'  But  useless  for  me  is  that  prayer 
noAV,  though   it    haunts  me.      But  a  few  hours    more,  the  old 

seaman  says The  sliip  drives  heavily.    ]\Iargaret,  I  Avould 

not  thiit  you  sliould  think  these  blurred,  unsteady  lines  are  other 
than  accidental.  Your  Harold  is  calm.  Hope  may  be  depart- 
ing, but  God  is  at  the  helm.  I  think  again  of  Gerald,  and  say, 
*  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  before  thee,  and 
am  no  more  Avorthy  to  be  called  thy  son  ; '  but  forgive  me  !  O, 
forgive  me  ! 

"  Thus  do  I  pray,  at  eAory  moment  that  I  do  not  pray  for  thee. 


AND     HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  257 

*'  I  have  been  on  deck.  In  a  vain  hope  to  aid  ns,  for  want 
of  coal,  we  have  burned  every  available  thing  within  the  ship. 
Doors,  partitions,  all  are  gone.  We  group  together,  for  we 
cannot  separate.  Xone  can  go  hide  their  grief  and  despair ; 
nakedly  shown  before  us  all  are  the  different  phases  of  woe  in 
all  their  human  weakness. 

'^  My  companions  gaze  on  me,  preparing  these  papers  —  my 
will  —  for  you,  fond  wife.  They  derive  comfort  from  my  calm- 
ness, thinking  the  wild  scene  above  is  but  a  hideous  di-ama,  in 
which  they  take  no  part.  Poor  Miss  Clare  !  Poor  Augusta  !  — 
she  beseeches  me  to  save  her  ;  and  calls  upon  you,  my  Mar- 
garet, to  hear  her  vows  and  promises.  Never  more  will  she 
give  you  one  moment's  uneaoiness  —  never  more  will  she  see  or 
speak  to  me  again.  I  believe  her  there  ;  but  I  smile  in  pity  at 
her  words.  My  Margaret  knew  all  her  Harold's  sins  and  weak- 
nesses ;  I  thank  God  I  have  nothing  to  confess.  She  upbraids 
me  as  the  cause  of  their  impending  doom  ;  again  I  thank  God, 
and  so  must  you,  Margaret ;  not  only  is  my  soul  free  (for  even 
her  companions  chide  her  for  her  words)  from  this  charge,  but 
He  who  sees  into  all  hearts  knows  I  Avould  freely  give  my  life 
for  hers,  so  unlit  is  she  to  die,  while  I  rest  in  the  hope  of  the 
thief  on  the  cross. 

"  Mv  buy  !  Make  him  the  Harold  I  ouorht  to  have  been. 
With  his  mother  near  him,  I  know  his  father's  name  will  be 
green  in  his  memory  evermore. 

"  If  God  has  given  you  a  fatherless  child,  Margaret,  take  it 
into  your  innermost  heart,  as  your  Harold's  last  gift. 

"You  have  much  to  do,  fond,  loving  wife  —  loving,  idolized, 
adored  JNIargaret  —  my  estates  to  redeem,  my  people  to  reform, 
my  name  to  clear,  until  it  is  second  to  none  in  honor  and  truth. 
Margaret  will  do  this  ere  I  see  her  again.  God  help  and  sup- 
port me  !  These  people  moan,  and  shriek,  and  cry,  but  Avho 
among  them  has  to  leave  a  Margaret  ? 

"  Agam  I  have  staggered  on  deck.  A  little  sloop  rides  on 
every  crested  wave  tAvo  miles  astern.  I  fear  for  her  ;  but  the 
old  mate  says  she  can  float  in  safety  where  we  cannot  go.  I 
feel  strangely  interested  in  her  ;  she  is  the  last  earthly  thing  on 
Avliich  my  eyes  will  rest  ;  she  will,  most  probably,  witness  our 
fate.  Evening  closes,  but  we  will  burn  blue  lights.  Haply, 
Avhen  she  sees  theiu  suddenly  extinguished  and  hears  the  wild 
cry  of  drowning  agony,  some  pious  heart  on  board  will  say, 
'  God  have  mercy  on  their  souls  !  ' 

"  I  told  you,  in  mv  letter  from  Jersey,  of  a  young  girl  who 
22* 


258  MARGARET 

was  of  our  company,  a  cousin  of  Miss  Clare's,  a  little,  delicate, 
fair  thing.  On  our  first  danger  she  grew  pale  and  Avhite  ;  but 
during  this  lifetime  of  alternate  hope  and  despondency  (which 
has  made  your  Harold's  hair  turn  tlius,  Margaret  —  see,  I  have 
cut  otf  your  favorite  lock  —  by  the  Avhite  hairs  so  suddenly 
strewn  in  it,  think,  wife,  how  your  Harold  mourns  for  you, 
bereft  and  lonely)  —  during  this  time,  I  say,  that  young  girl  has 
uttered  no  cry,  has  made  no  moan.  She  followed  me  every- 
where with  her  large,  sad  eyes  and  wistful  face  ;  and,  as  if  in 
answer  to  my  questioning  look,  whether  I  could  do  aught  for 
her,  said,  — '  Fray,  let  me  stay  near  you  ;  it  does  me  good,  and 
strengthens  mc  to  see  you.' 

"  For  very  sad,  my  Margaret,  is  it  to  see  the  others  ;  those 
who  ought  to  be  their  nearest  and  dearest  comforters  have 
blindly  drowned  their  sense  of  danger  in  Avine.  'Tis  a  pitiable 
sight.  I  know  you  will  be  glad  to  think  I  had  a  little  gentle 
spirit  near  me,  to  whom  I  could  do  some  good.  I  have  written, 
at  her  dictation,  a  letter  to  her  sister,  the  only  near  relation  she 
has  in  the  world,  and  whom  she  disobeyed,  coming  on  this  ill- 
I'ated  voyage  —  that  is,  she  came  against  her  sister's  wishes,  who 
is  much  older  than  herself,  and  avIio  docs  not  love  the  Clares. 
The  innocent  child  thinks  her  dreadful  death  a  proper  judgment 
on  her.  She  says  her  sister  is  poor,  and  was  made  still  more 
so  by  her  efforts  to  afford  every  pleasure  and  good  she  was 
able  to  this  little  sister. 

"  '  Now,'  she  says,  '  she  will  be  free  from  me,  and  need  go 
out  to  teach  no  more  ;  but  she  will  sadly  mourn  and  Aveep  for 
me,  and  who  will  comfort  her?' 

"  '  My  INIargaret  Avill,'  I  answered. 

" '  Then  I  have  no  other  care,'  she  said.  '  If  I  may  hold 
your  hand,  as  Ave  go  doAvn,  I  will  neither  shriek  nor  cry,  sir,  or 
struggle.  God  Avill  be  good  to  me,  and  take  my  soul  at  the  first 
rush  of  the  Avater  ! ' 

"  So  now  the  hour  comes.  A  shock  sends  a  trembling  thrill, 
as  if  of  life,  through  every  timber  of  '  the  Marguerite.'  Loud 
and  shrill  rise  those  shrieks  of  agony  and  despair !  Poor 
Augusta!  uuhapjjy  creature  !  she  knoAvs  not  Avhiit  she  says  so 
wildly.  Her  sister-in-law  falls  fainting  back  :  that  yuung,  quiet 
child  kncL'ls  by  my  side  and  prays  ! 

"  Comfort  my  pour  mother. 

"And  now  to  put  up  this  packet.  Margaret,  my  fond,  SAveet, 
loving  Margaret !  your  Lotty  will  bring  you  these  Avords  —  your 
best  Lotty.     I  remember  telling  her  my  plan  that  the  guardian 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  259 

angel  of  my  ship  sliould_  float,  did  all  else  perish.  She  knows 
you  will  not  live  without  your  Harold's  adieu.  So,  take  it 
—  take  ray  last  fond  blessing,  and,  with  it,  ackuoAvledge  that, 
however  dreadful  my  fate,  however  hard  my  doom,  yet  can  I 
bear  it  all ;  for,  through  the  mercy  of  my  God  and  Saviour,  I 
hope  to  meet  my  wife  in  heaven  !  " 

^  ^  ^  ^  ^|f 

None  may  lift  the  veil  that  shrouds  such  mourners,  for  the 
weak  lauffuafje  of  man  is  unfitted  to  describe  their  o;rief. 

It  was  the  fourteenth  of  February.  Lotty  had  met  Basil  in 
the  cedar  walk,  to  give  him  the  daily  accovmt  of  Margaret. 

"Will  she  ever  recover,  Lotty?"  asked  he  mournfully. 

"  Yes  ;  Harold  bid  her  live  ;  she  will  do  it." 

"  It  is  your  birth-day,  Lotty,"  said  he. 

"  Yes.     I  wish  I  was  dead  !  " 

"Nay,  Lotty,  what  could  we  do  without  you?  Margaret 
would  have  died  but  for  you." 

"  Have  you  settled  all  about  that  old  Miss  Clare?" 

"  Yes  ;  she  is  now  at  the  Rectory,  and  seems  weU  fitted  to 
take  charge  of  it  until  my  sister  comes  home." 

"And  how  does  she  seem?" 

"  Why,  Lotty,  she  appears  to  have  been  very  fond  of  that 
little  sister,  and " 

"  Refuses  to  be  comforted,  of  course  ;  mourns  like  us  all." 

"  But  she  is  a  good  Avoman,  Lotty,  and  says  she  will  make  no 
unworthy  moan,  for  God  has  comforted  her,  only  the  shock  was 
great," 

"  I  suppose  I  must  go  and  see  her." 

"  Yes,  Lotty,  and  read  the  little  sister's  letter ;  but  not 
to-day,  for  you  have  a  birth-day  sad  enough  already." 

"  I  wish  to  have  no  more  ;  this  world  is  too  sorrowful  and  bad 
to  live  in." 

"  Do  not  quit  it  yet  a  while,  Lotty  ;  we  have  much  for  you  to 
do  ;  besides.  Bear  would  die  of  grief — to  say  nothing  of  others." 

"  I'll  bequeath  Bear  to  you,  but  now  I  must  return  to  Mar- 
garet." 

"  First  tell  me,  Lotty,  does  she  take  an  interest  in  any- 
thing?" 

"  Yes,  she  reads  Harold's  letters  all  day,  and  looks  at  and 
touches  that  half  black,  half  white,  curl." 

"  Does  she  speak  to  you,  Lotty?  " 

"  Yes,  she  says  drowning  cries  pierce  her  ears,  and  she  sees 
stormy  waves  and  drowning  people  when  she  shuts  her  eyes." 


260  MARGARET 

'■Ah,  don't,  Lotty  ;    you  harrow  my  very  heartstrings." 

"■Then  don't  ask  Ibolisli  qui'<{iou5." 

"  Nay,  just  a  few  more.     Does  she  see  her  children?  " 

"  Yes,  she  weeps  over  them,  until  I  have  to  send  them 
away." 

"  Does  she  think  of  you,  Lotty,  and  love  you  as  ever?" 

"  Yes,  when  she  reads  Harold's  letter." 

"  Does  she  talk  much  of  him,  and  mention  his  name?" 

"  She  speaks  of  nothing  else,  and  says  no  other  name." 

"  How  long  is  this  to  last,  Lotty  ?  " 

"  Just  as  long  as  she  chooses,  so  good-by." 

Tiie  next  day  Lotty  came  springing  to  meet  Basil,  with  a  step 
that  showed  her  heart  was  lighter. 

"  Do  you  know,  Basil,  she  remembered  it  was  my  birth-day, 
and  thought  it  so  sad  I  should  bo  but  eighteen,  yet  a  widow  ;  — 
as  if  she  were  much  older.  And  she  called  to  mind,  of  her  own 
accord,  how  my  father  used  to  send  the  cart  into  Bath,  laden 
with  good  things,  and  presents  for  the  whole  school,  on  my 
birth-dav,  and  she  smiled  ;  it  was  her  first  smile,  but  so  sad,  so 
■svan '-" 

"  Do  not  weep,  Lotty  !  you  see  you  are  to  be  her  best  earthly 
comforter,  yet." 

"And,  Basil,  she  asked  al)out  Miss  Rachael  Clare,  and  said, 
you  always  fixed  upon  the  right  thing  for  everybody." 

"  And  what  more  did  she  say?" 

"  Why,  she  said,  that  is,  she  feared  she  had  been  very 
selfish " 

"How,  Lotty?" 

"About  me?" 

"  I  do  not  understand  ;   pray  explain." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  explain,  Basil  :  only  she  seemed  to 
remember  I  ought  to  be  in  grief,  or  I  was  in  grief,  and  that  she 
ought  to  comfort  mo,  and  all  that." 

Basil  tried  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Lotty's  face,  but  failed. 

"  You  know,  Lotty,  you  did  wrong  to  marry." 

"  No  one  suffered  but  myself." 

"  Dearest  Lotty  !  who  could  have  had  the  heart  to  give  you 
pain?" 

"  I  only  pained  myself." 

"  r>ut  poor  Philii)'s  greatest  fault " 

"  Was  loving  mo  too  mucli,"  interrupted  Lotty,  quickly. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  at  it,"  exclaimed  Basil,  abruptly.  Then 
recovering  himself,  he  raised  her  liand  to  iiis  lips,  with  the  air 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  261 

of  a  courtier  saluting  his  rightful  queen,  saying,  low  and  soft, 
"  True,  loyal  wife." 

Lotty  received  the  truth  and  the  compliment  with  a  very 
sedate  air,  as  if  it  were  nothing  to  her  what  Basil  thought  or 
said. 

"Now  when  do  you  intend  to  go  to  your  own  home?"  she 
asked. 

"Are  you  tired  of  me?"  he  answered. 

"  Not  at  all ;  only,  as  time  alone  can  now  help  Margaret,  it  is 
useless  your  moping  about  here,  when,  perhaps,  you  are  much 
wanted  at  home.  I  feel  sure  Hugh  and  Brian  wish  we  all  had 
been  drowned  together ;  and  so  do  I,  for  the  matter  of  that." 

"  If  you  think  I  can  be  of  no  further  good,  I  Avill  gladly 
return  home  ;  for  though  my  boys  have  no  such  base  thoughts  as 
you  mention,  especially  as  regards  yourself,  they  really  do 
require  me." 

"  Then,  good-by." 

"  Nay,  be  not  so  impatient  to  be  rid  of  me  — you  will  write 
tome?" 

"  Yes,  once  a  week." 

"  Then  I  shall  come  down  between  each  letter,  to  inquire 
after  you  all." 

"  I  will  write  twice  a  week,  then." 

*'  I  presume  I  must  be  content  with  that :  and  if  you  want 

me " 

"  I'll  telegraph,  or  send  Bear." 

"  Very  good  :  you  will  write  the  first  letter  to-morrow  ?  " 
"  No,  the  day  after." 

"You  will  think  of  me,  Lotty,  far  away  from  you  all?  " 
"  Yes,  as  very  happy  with  your  brothers." 
"As  very  unhappy,  until  I  see  you  again." 
"  Time    will   mend    that,    as    you   must   not   come   for   six 
months." 

"  Luckily  I  shall  be  wanted  in  less  than  three.  I  am  little 
Harold's  guardian." 

"  Then  I  will  amuse  myself  by  spoiling  him  to  give  you  some 
trouble." 

"  Good-by,  Lotty !  do  what  you  please,  I  am  of  Brian  and 
Hugh's  opinion,  you  cannot  do  wrong." 

"  Good-by,  Basil ;  Heaven  send  you  better  judgment.  Shake 
hands,  Bear,  like  a  gentleman,  for  Basil  is  going  away." 

The  day  after  Basil  reached  home,  he  received  a  letter  from 
Lotty,  as  follows  :  — 


262  MARGARET 

"  I  AM  obliged  to  write  to  you,  Basil,  because  Margaret 
wisbes  it  ;  sbe  says  sbe  uould  like  to  liave  seen  you  before  you 
■\veut,  but  I  know  better,  so  do  not  grieve  about  that.  A  little 
more  strain  on  her  nerves,  and  they  would  break,  and  you  are 
so  foolishly  tender-hearted,  yoix  would  never  bear  up  as  I  do. 

*"  I  am  also  to  tell  you,  she  wants  her  image,  that  guardian 
angel  of  the  '  Marguerite,'  you  know.  We  left  it  in  the 
'  Ripple  ; '  ^  might  have  known  she  would  wish  to  have  it, 
without  troubling  her  to  ask  for  it.  Also,  you  are  to  find  out  if 
ever  the  drowned  are  washed  up  off  those  sands  ;  and  further, 
every  particular  about  the  storm  —  how  many  vessels  were  lost, 
and  how  many  souls  went  down.  And  please  to  collect  all  that 
the  new.^papers  said.  You  know  we  have  carefully  kept  the 
siglit  of  tiiem  from  her,  and  she  bids  me  ask  you  to  keep  them 
all,  —  for  the  time  may  come  when  she  Avill  take  a  melancholy 
pleasure  in  looking  at  them  ;  and  for  the  sake  of  the  children,  no 
incident  relative  to  their  father  ought  to  be  lost.  But  pray 
answer  this  letter  to  her  :  it  is  better  for  us  both.  She  can  read 
your  letter  to  herself,  and  as  for  me,  my  heart  is  not  stone.  The 
Beauvillians  are  good  lovers,  l)ut  indifferent  mourners  :  they 
know  not  how  to  be  unhappy.  If  they  lose  a  friend  or  brother 
by  death,  they  say,  '  He  was  good  and  Avorthy  ;  he  has  gone 
liome,  where  we  shall  soon  follow.'  If  misfortunes  come  upon 
one,  the  others  flock  round  and  say,  '  Here,  brother,  take  of  ours  ; 
we  have  enough,  and  to  spare.'  If  sickness  and  pain  afllict  any, 
'  Ha  ! '  say  they,  '  in  the  next  Avorld  we  shall  sutler  nothing.' 

"  You  must  know,  Basil,  she  has  smiled  again.  Il  was  at  a 
letter  from  my  cousin  Frank.  I  would  send  it  to  you,  but  really 
his  paternal  felicities  are  not  fit  to  be  seen  by  any  but  very 
friendly  eyes.  The  newspapers  will  tell  you  of  his  happiness. 
I  am  going  to  sec  Miss  Rachel.  The  name  of  Clare  gives  me 
the  sliivers.  Young  Harold  cried  for  something  this  morning; 
mindful  of  your  responsibilities,  I  gave  it  to  him.  —  Bear's 
love.     Tliis  letter  is  written  by  a  disconsolate  being,  called 

LoTTY." 

Though  Basil  is  not  to  see  Mr.  Frank's  letter,  the  reader 
phall  have  a  peep  at  it  for  old  acquaintance'  sake. 

''Mr    KKAHKST    LoTTY  : 

"  ^ly  I)eloved  Georgina,  Avith  the  fortitude  only  possessed 
by  her  sex,  has  nnule  me  the  most  delighted  of  men  as  well 
as  the  iiappiest  father.  You  remember  how  kindly  she  in- 
eisted  upon  my  coming  for  you,  and  threatened  me  with  a  cer- 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  263 

tain  pvinisliment  if  I  did  not  accede  to  her  wishes  ;  and  now  my 
darling  Georgina  has  fulfilled  her  promise,  made  so  sweetly  to 
me,  even  better  than  she  said  she  would,  for  at  half-past  three 
on  Sunday  morning  (just  before  the  propitioiis  llth  of  Feb- 
ruary) she  made  me  the  happy  father  of  the  sweetest  little  girl 
you  ever  saw,  and  within  half  an  hour  she  presented  me  with 
another  equally  charming. 

"  You  will  allow,  dear  Lotty,  that  my  feelings  naturally  would 
be  very  much  overcome,  and  will  therefore  excuse  a  longer  letter, 
and  that  I  mix  nothing  of  sorrow  and  sympathy  in  one  announ- 
cing such  an  auspicious  event. 

"  I  will  only  further  say,  the  beloved  mother  and  sweet  babea 
are  doing  charmingly,  and  just  now  my  dearest  Georgina  whis- 
pered to  me,  one  little  daughter  should  be  called  Lotty,  and  I 
said,  in  answer,  the  other  should  be  Georgina,  for  we  had  had 
our  little  dispute  about  the  name  ;  most  fortunately  settled  by 
the  never-to-be-sufhciently-praised  conduct  of  my  dearest  wife  in 
presenting  me  with  two  lovely  girls. 

"  Your  most  happy,  overcome  kinsman, 

"Frank  Beaitvilliers." 

"  Poor,  dear  Pro.  !  "  said  Margaret. 

*'  The  Beauvillians  will  be  rampant,"  answered  Lotty. 


CHAPTER    LX. 

There  was  something  remarkably  pleasing  about  Mr.  Grey : 
without  being  handsome,  there  was  a  mixture  of  intellect,  sense, 
and  good  humor  in  his  countenance,  that  attracted  attention, 
and  warmed  the  heart  towards  him.  His  manner  was  uniformly 
lively  and  cheerful,  yet  never  obtrusive  ;  m  fact,  he  had  the  gift 
of  always  appearing  at  the  right  moment,  and  always  saying  the 
most  appropriate  word. 

Long  ago,  in  younger  days,  when  his  kind  heart  was  enthusi- 
astic as  well  as  kind,  he  had  felt  a  warm  interest  in  the  poor 
Miss  Leighs.  Like  little,  uncomplaining  doves  in  a  cage,  they 
cooed  through  their  dull,  monotonous  lives  in  as  unobtrusive  a 
manner  as  they  could  ;  hemmed  in  by  forms  and  ceremonies, 
they  hardly  knew  that  there  was  any  other  existence  by  which 
the   many  little  tendernesses  of  their  hearts  could  be  occupied. 


264  MARGARET 

Yet  Mr.  Grey  had  in  the  short  period  of  their  acquaintance  dis- 
covered tliat  both  were  well  furuislicd  with  gentle,  kind  natures, 
only  waiting  to  bud  forth  on  fitting  reason,  and  wanting  nothing 
but  opportunity  to  blossom  into  full  fragrance. 

IMiss  Leigh,  in  particular,  appeared  to  him  so  peculiarly  fitted 
to  render  a  sensible  and  atrectiouate  man  happy,  that  he  had 
begun  to  question  himself  as  to  the  propriety  of  seeking  her 
society  further,  without  any  reasonable  hope  of  gaining  his 
wishes,  when  Lady  Ivathcrine  put  a  sudden  and  peremptory 
finale  to  whatever  incipient  hopes  had  begun  to  bud.  The  blow 
was  more  heavy  than  Mr.  Grey  imagined  ;  and  bidding  adieu 
to  love,  he  turned  his  quiet  energies  into  other  channels. 

As  curate  of  a  large  and  populous  parish,  he  had  but  little 
time  to  think  of  Miss  Leigh,  and  do  his  duty.  As  rector  of  a 
small  living,  he  undertook  to  educate  a  number  of  half-brothers 
and  sisters,  and  tied  himself  and  his  fortune  down,  for  the  ben- 
efit of  their  mother  and  them. 

The  gi'eatest  excitement  and  indulgence  that  he  ever  allowed 
himself  was  the  study  of  geology,  mineralogy,  and  botany  ;  in  all 
of  which  sciences  he  gained  a  proficiency. 

When  he  received  Mr.  Herbert's  offer,  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  Mrs.  Leigh,  and  found  himself  again  in  such  immediate 
contact  with  the  first  object  of  his  affections,  he  naturally  con- 
cluded that  the  love  of  stones,  llowcrs,  and  strata,  which  had 
held  him  in  such  unbounded  thi'all  for  tea  years,  was  much 
superior  to  the  half  pity,  half  love,  he  had  for  three  short  months 
felt  for  Miss  Leigh  ;  so  sure  was  he  of  this,  that  arri\  ing  in  the 
very  moment  of  their  heavy  calamity,  he  had,  at  Mr.  Herbert's 
request,  fearlessly  taken  up  his  abode  with  Lady  Katheriue  and 
the  gentle  Pru. 

"We  have  seen  that  the  latter,  having  had  no  rival,  save  Lotty, 
and  nothing  to  divert  her  thoughts,  was  still  faithful ;  and,  in- 
deed, she  was  not  far  wrong  in  tlunking  that  the  ten  years  had 
only  passed  over  Mr.  Grey's  head  to  improve  him.  lie  bore 
within  him  a  contented,  cheerful  heart,  a  well-disciplined,  active 
mind,  moderate  and  easily  pleased  desires,  Avilh  a  strong  per- 
vading principle  of  religion,  that  never  slumbered  or  waxed 
faint ;  witii  such  a  num  time  had  no  dealings,  years  passed  over 
him  as  lightly  as  days  on  the  indolent  and  unthankful. 

I'ru.  was  not  so  fortunate  ;  good,  sweet,  and  amiable  as  she 
was,  some  little  secret  corner  of  repining  had  tuuched  her  cheek 
with  a  few  wrinkles,  had  somewhat  angularized  her  form,  and 
imparted  a  slight  tendency  to  redness  in  her  nose.     But  what- 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  265 

ever  she  might  have  lost  in  beauty,  Mr.  Grey  soon  began  to  dis- 
cover she  liad  gained  in  amiability. 

Mineralogy,  botany,  and  geology  were  certainly  bewitching 
sciences.  In  their  services  he  had  almost  forgotten  the  existence 
of  Miss  Leigh  ;  but  when  they  came  to  be  placed  in  actual  con- 
tact with  her  feminine  virtues,  and  he  had  to  compare  the  de- 
lights of  discovering  a  new  flower,  with  her  gentle  endurance  of 
her  mother's  whims,  or  a  curious  fossil,  while  she,  with  gentle 
eyes,  told  him  of  some  new  patient  requiring  his  tender.  Chris- 
tian care  ;  then  we  are  bound  to  confess  Pru.  rose  high  in  the 
scale  of  his  regard,  while  mineralogy,  botany,  and  geology 
kicked  the  beam  together.  He  came  at  a  most  fortunate  mo- 
ment for  Lady  Katherine,  who  was  only  saved  from  insanity  by 
hardly  having  sutficieut  sense  to  realize  the  horror  of  her  work. 

But  she  was  in  that  state  that  made  her  cling  to  any  one  who 
would  relieve  her  from  the  dead  weight  of  sorrow  and  remorse, 
—  feelings  she  could  hardly  comprehend,  yet  which  would  make 
themselves  felt.  It  was  with  the  heart  and  spirit  of  a  little, 
humble  child  that  she  threw  herself  into  the  pious  hands  of  the 
kind,  mercy-loving  John  Grey. 

So  soothing  were  his  efforts,  so  gentle  his  persuasive  words, 
so  pure  his  faith  and  piety,  that  under  his  care  she  grew  calm, 
yet  not  forgetful ;  happy,  though  always  repentant ;  apparently 
much  like  the  Lady  Katherine  of  old,  yet  essentially  different. 

Meanwhile  months  went  on  ;  May  was  beginning  to  deck  the 
earth  with  her  flowers,  and  render  it  fragrant  by  their  sweet  odors. 

''  Lotty,  love,  I  am  told  you  are  repairing  and  painting  High 
Leigh.  Do  my  mother  and  I  tie  your  sweet  spirit  down  too 
much  with  our  dtilness  ? "  Thus  spoke  Margaret  on  that  May 
morning. 

"  I  should  be  dull  aAvay  from  you,  and  that  you  may  believe. 
No,  Bear  and  I  are  fixing  up  High  Leigh  for  some  friends  of 
ours  to  live  in  ;  they  were  very  kind  to  us  when  we  were  lonely 
and  sad  in  foreign  lands  ;  and  though  we  do  not  wish  you  to  be 
ill,  yet  we  hope  that  you  will  catch  a  little  cold  now  and  then, 
or  the  children  have  measles,  that  you  may  employ  the  valuable 
services  of  Mr.  Laird." 

•'  Are  those  nice,  kind  people  really  coming,  Lotty?  " 
"  Yes,  Queen  Meg,  I  am  going  to  let  them  have  High  Leigh, 
because  Mrs.  Laird  was  so  fond  of  poor  Philip,  and  will  like  to 
hve  m  his  house,  and  we  ought  to  have  a  medical  man  nearer  to 
us  than  Dr.  Murray,  and  he  is  glad  of  help  besides ;  so  alto- 
gether we  think  it  a  fine  arrangement." 
23 


26(5  MARGARET 

*'  An  arrancrcment  very  like  you,  my  Lofty." 

"  Bear  and  I,  if  yoii  please.  "We  settled  it  ?i  month  ago,  be- 
cause, in  the  first  pkiee,  we  hke  hviug  Avith  you  and  Lady 
Montagu,  and  secondly,  High  Leigh  does  not  agree  with  Bear's 
health.  He  suffers  from  neuralgia  there,  and  nervous  affections  ; 
is  it  not  so,  old  fellow  ?  " 

Bear  whisked  his  gi-eat  tail  by  way  of  assent,  whereby  a  hide- 
ous, but  most  valuable  piece  of  old  Dragon  china  went  smash  on 
the  floor,  swept  oil*  by  that  ever-active  member  ;  Lotty  scolded, 
and  Bear  looked  meek  and  penitent,  so  was  kissed  and  forgiven. 

"  Bear  and  I  liave  also  another  scheme  in  our  heads,  only  we 
cannot  do  it  without  your  help." 

"Command  it,  best  Lotty." 

"  AVe  wish  to  make  a  matrimonial  contract  between  John 
Grey  and  Charlotte  Leigh." 

"Lotty,  love!  what  strange  thing  will  not  you  aud  Bear  do 
next?" 

"  Not  at  all  strange,  SAveet  Meg.  They  knew  each  other  long 
ago  ;  they  loved  each  other  then.  Watch  the  gentle  Pru.,  and 
you  will  see  she  is  more  than  '  full  fathom  five  in  love '  now. 
But  Mr.  Orey  is  too  conscientious  ;  you  must  lend  us  your  help, 
otherwise  he  vnW  leave  on  a  sudden,  knowing  Lady  Katherine's 
former  wishes.  He  Avill  fear  that  she  is  biased  now,  by  her 
liking  for  him  ;  and  tliough  I  think  in  his  heart  he  loves  sweet 
Pru.  dearly,  yet  will  he  hold  the  secret  closely  shut  within  it, 
unless  you  interfere." 

"  I  will  gladly  do  so ;  I  should  like  my  dear  mother  to  have 
so  kind  a  son  ;  we  must  not  lose  him  Irom  such  motives  —  but 
I  am  so  selfish,  Lotty,  I  see  none  of  these  things " 

"  When  you  are  selfish,  then  believe  that  Bear  and  I  hate  each 
other  wi;h  a  biting,  acrimonious  haired,  not  to  be  matched." 

"  AVTicn  I  am  rich  enough  I  wish  to  build  a  little  church, 
Lotty." 

"  Yes,  a  memorial  church  in  the  Upper  Park,  half  way  to 
High  Leigh,  aud  Mr.  Grey  shall  be  curate  of  it,  when  Gei'ald 
comes  home." 

"  Ah  !  Lotty,  you  see  into  people's  hearts,  you  know  every- 
thing." 

"  Yes,  truly  ;  among  others,  that  your  mother  wishes  you  to 
go  from  home." 

"  She  wislies,  Lotty,  for  us  all  to  go  to  the  sea-side." 

"  Then  we  go." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  answered  Margaret,  sighing ;  "  for  my«elf, 
I  want  but  one  change." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  267 

This  was  said  so  low,  Lotty  might  well  be  excused  pretending 
not  to  hear  it. 

"  Here  is  Pru.,  crossing  the  lawn.  Now,  Margaret,  watch 
and  see  if  my  little  love  tale  is  not  true.  Dear  Pru.,"  con- 
tinued Lotty,  "  in  Avhat  manner  have  you  been  uncivil  to  Mr. 
Grey,  that  he  is  going  to  leave  you  ?  " 

"  Leave  us  !  going  !  "  cried  the  poor  unsuspecting  Pru.,  with 
most  innocent  dismay.  O  dear  !  O  dear  !  how  unhappy  I  am  ! " 
and  sinkinar  into  a  chair,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Only  this  evening,  dear,  to  dine  with  us,"  said  the  naughty 
Lotty  ;  "  but  as  you  seem  to  take  even  that  short  separation  to 
heart,  perhaps  Margaret  will  ask  you  also." 

"  O  !  dear  Lotty,  I  did  not  think  you  could  be  so  unkind," 
sobbed  Pru. 

"  Dear  Charlotte,"  said  sweet  Margaret,  "  I  like  your  Mr. 
Grey  very  much,  and  you  need  not  be  ashamed  to  love  so  good 
a  man.  Some  of  these  days  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  his  good 
and  gentle  wife." 

"  I  think  Lotty  is  really  very,  very  unkind,"  answered  Pru., 
for  once  in  her  life  feeling  hot  and  angry.  She  had  reason  to 
be  nettled  at  the  unkind  means  Lotty  had  taken  to  surprise  her 
secret. 

"  Margaret  would  not  believe  me,  dear  ;  she  said  you  did  not 
care  one  bit  for  him,"  pleaded  the  mischievous  penitent. 

"  O  !  but,  dear  Manraret,  he  is  so  good,  so  kind,  that  is, 
mamma  thinks,  and  I  always  knew,  I  mean  of  course,  dear 
Margaret,  it  is  not  as  that  unkind  Lotty  says,  because,  you 
know,  he  never  says  anything ;  and  I  dare  say  never  will, 
because  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that " 

"  Margaret  can  make  any  sense  out  of  all  that  you  are  saying. 
Kiss  me,  and  forgive  me,  like  a  good  Pru.,  and  I  will  never  be 
naughtv  ajiain." 

"  You  know  I  must  kiss  and  forgive  you,  but  still  you  were 
very  unkind ;  and  if  somebody  had  done  it  to  you,  I  know  what 
you  would  say." 

"  What  now,  dear  Pru.  ?  " 

"  You  would  say,  I  hate  the  man  ;  and,  perhaps,  even  if  you 
loved  him  ever  so  much,  would  never  speak  to  him  again." 

"  And  pray  will  you  do  the  same  ?  "  asked  Lotty,  smiling. 

"  No,  I  am  not  Lotty.  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  anything  but 
poor  Pru." 

"  And  therefore  much  more  to  be  loved  than  naughty  Lotty. 
So  now  that  we  are  friends,  take  care  of  one  thing.  I  may  fancy 
Mr.  Grey  myself." 


268  MARGARET 

"  Then,  dear  Lotty,  von  will  be  a  happy  woman." 

"  jSow,  that  is  very  magnauimous  of  you,  Pru.  ;  but  there  are 
two  reasons  against  my  ever  marrying  Mr.  Grey,  even  if  I  did 
fancy  him." 

"  And  what  can  they  be,  dear  Lotty  ?  " 

"  He  loves  some  other  person  better  than  me,  and  Bear  is 
decidedly  against  the  connection.  See,  he  looks  quite  fierce  at 
the  notion." 

"Our  Lotty  is  very  silly  sometimes,  is  she  not,  Charlotte? 
but  her  little  eccentricities  serve  her  purpose  ;  which  is,  to  make 
us  smile." 

'•  But  I  don't  quite  think  this  business  was  fair,"  begim  Pru. 

"It  was  most  unpardonable  ;  but  you  had  better  say  no  more, 
for  Mr.  Grey  is  at  tlie  door,"  answered  Lotty. 

"And  why  should  he  not  hear  what  you  are  saying ?"  said 
he,  being  nearer  than  even  Lotty  deemed  him. 

"  Because  '  Love  lies  bleeding '  is  not  the  other  name  for 
'  London  Pride,'  and  you  think  it  is,"  answered  Lotty,  promptly. 

"  Humph  !  "  said  he,  gravely  ;  but  his  eyes  twinkled. 


CHAPTER    LXI. 

Sadly  and  sorrowfully  Margaret  Avalked  hour  after  hour  by 
the  heedless  waves.  It  Avas  at  Lady  Montagu's  wish  they  had 
gone  to  the  sea-side  ;  she  felt  that  the  longer  Margaret  refrained 
from  seeing  the  cause  of  her  sad  fate,  the  more  nervously  would 
the  fear  of  doing  so  distress  her.  Once  recover  from  this  shock, 
then  Avould  her  patient,  pious  heart  turn  to  the  Avorld,  to  fulfil 
the  Avork  she  hiul  to  do  therein.  They  had  no  fear  lor  the  con- 
sequeuces  ;  they  let  her  indulge  herself  to  the  full ;  pouring  out 
her  griefs  ;  upljruiding  that  cruel,  remorseless  sea  —  yet  loved, 
touclied,  looked  on,  as  the  vast  tomb  of  her  Harold. 

It  was  Lotty's  custom  to  sit  at  a  distance  and  Avatch  Marga- 
ret ;  she  seemed  to  knoAA'  by  intuition  the  auspicious  moment  to 
join  her.  And  Lady  Montagu  Avould  feel  that  evening  Avas  a 
bright  one  to  her,  if  Margaret's  fair  clieek  had  the  faintest 
bloom  on   it. 

Oik'  day,  as  Lotty  sat  at  her  post  of  observation,  she  saw 
coming  down   on   to    the  sands  a  stout  lady,  dressed   in   such 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  269 

a  profusion  of  colors,  it  cost  her  some  trouble  to  reelvon  them 
all  up.  A  piuk  parasol  was  proniineat ;  a  sort  of  yellow-ochre 
shawl  enveloped  her  large  person,  showing  portions  of  a  bright 
green  silk  dress  beneath  ;  her  bonnet  was  tastefully  done  up  at 
all  points  with  little  blue  feathers,  that,  irritated  in  every  tender 
fibre  by  the  sharp  sea-breeze,  raised  themselves  into  odd  shapes 
and  positions,  giving  the  bonnet  a  strong  resemblance  to  a  friz- 
zled fowl.  Tlie  sand  was  soft  and  heavy,  so  that  she  left  large, 
deep  prints  of  a  substantial  foot,  as  she  labored  through  it. 
81ie  was  followed  by  three  nurses,  each  can-ying  a  pale  look- 
ing baby.  Every  baby  being  conspicuous  in  gorgeous  clothing 
and  waving  plumes. 

Lotty  Avatched  Bear  make  a  tour  of  observation  all  round  this 
party,  who  huddled  together  at  the  sight  of  him  like  a  flock  of 
alarmed  sheep.  The  lady  especially  tossed  down  her  pink  para- 
sol, and  spread  out  her  ample  green  skirts  after  the  fashion  of  a 
fearful  hen. 

"  Bear,  who  is  it?"  said  Lotty,  to  that  discerning  individual ; 
"  it  can  be  no  one  we  know.  O  !  you  think  it  is.  Let  us  go 
and  warn  Margaret  then." 

"  Margaret,  see,  there  is  Carry  !  "  said  Lotty  to  her. 

"  Ah,  no,  Lotty  ;  the  sylph-like  Carry  can  never  have  ex- 
panded into  that  person."  answered  Margaret. 

"  It  is  Carry,"  persisted  Lotty  ;  "  look  at  the  babies." 

"  The  small  one  looks  rather  like  the  one  she  brought  down 
to  Court  Leigh,  Lotty." 

"About  the  eyes  especially,"  answered  Lotty,  "and  also  in 
regard  to  a  certain  uncertainty  as  to  the  safety  of  its  head.  I 
always  felt  averse  to  taking  it,  lest  that  important  article  should 
roll  oft'.  I  Avill  send  Bear  to  inquire.  jS'ow,  old  fellow,  go  and 
do  your  duty.  If  that  is  an  old  friend,  salute  her  like  a  gentle- 
man," 

"■  They  will  be  alarmed  at  Bear,"  interrupted  Margaret. 

"  Tlien  you  are  not  to  go  too  near,  Bear,  or  you  will  send 
those  babies  into  convulsions.  There,  Margaret !  it  is  Carry. 
Look  at  Bear,  how  sulky  he  is  ;  he  knows  he  must  behave  like  a 
gentleman,  and  salute  lier,  but  he  is  tlioroughly  ashamed  of  the 
acquaintance.     Slie  is  much  too  smart  for  his  homely  ideas." 

"  Then,  Lotty,  we  must  also  go  and  pay  our  respects." 

It  was,  indeed,  their  old  schoolfellow,  who  greeted  them  in  a 
most  cordial  manner ;  considering,  as  Lotty  said  afterwards, 
they  were  not  babies,  and  had  none  with  them. 

"  O  !  "  said  Carrv,  "  I  really  am  delighted  to  see  you.    I  shall 
23* 


270  MARGARET 

have  snch  pleasure  in  sho^v^ng  you  my  darling  children.  Nurse, 
put  Cecil  down,  that  Lady  Leigh  may  see  how  nicely  he  walks." 

Cecil  whimpered. 

"  O !  never  mind,  then,  nurse ;  you  shall  not  walk,  my 
darling,  if  you  don't  like.  Some  day,  Margaret,  when  you  are 
on  the  sands,  and  he  happens  to  be  down  on  his  legs,  I  -will  just 
give  you  a  signal  to  come  up  quietly  without  his  knowing, 
because  he  is  so  very  shy.  And  see,  I  must  introduce  you  to 
my  little  Arabella.  Belle,  Bella  !  look  up,  mamma's  pet,  look 
up,  my  darling  !  Nurse,  do  you  think  she  seems  inclined  to  kiss 
lier  hand  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,  I  don't  think  she  looks  inclined  to-day ;  she  is 
a  little  put  out,  ma'am,  by  the  dog." 

"O!  tlien  we  will  not  force  her;  I  make  a  point,  my  dear 
Margaret,  of  never  asking  my  children  to  do  what  they  don't 
like.  And  doesn't  she  like  the  ugly  dog?  Ah  !  naughty  beast, 
go  away  ;  Bella  sluill  have  a  stick  and  beat  him  !  " 

Arabella  got  up  a  ray  of  intelligence  into  her  countenance 
upon  this  announcement.     Luckily,  Bear  boimded  off. 

"And  now,  nurse,  show  Lady  Leigh  the  baby.  Robert  won't 
look  at  her,  because  she  is  a  girl,  and  he  wanted  another  boy ; 
but  she  is  much  the  flower  of  all  my  pets." 

Certainly  tlie  baby  was  larger,  fatter,  and  more  flabby-look- 
ing than  Avhat  Cecil  had  been  at  her  age. 

"  Little  pet !  "  said  the  fond  mother,  kissing  her.  "  By-the- 
by,  Margaret,  how  is  your  poor  boy  —  did  you  ever  rear  him? 
1  am  so  nnicli  out  of  tlie  worhl  now,  and  am  so  occupied  with 
my  darlings,  that  1  hear  no  news  of  any  sort  or  kind,  except 
that  some  one  of  the  name  of  Leigh,  it  struck  me,  I  had  seen 
was  dead,  in  the  newspaper."  Here  she  looked  up,  and  the 
pure,  Madonna-like  face  of  Margaret,  appearing  from  beneath 
the  close  white  cap,  and  deep  black  bonnet  and  veil,  struc-k  ou 
}ier  baby-locked  mind.  "  O,  I  beg  your  pardon  !  —  I  really 
forgot  !  " 

"  I'ray  don't  apologize,"  said  Lotty,  "  for  cither  uf  us,  as  we 
can  i'idly  believe  thsrt  the  care  of  such  babies  must  make  you 
forgut  everythiniif." 

''  Well,  Lottv,  if  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  very  good- 
natured,  1  should  say  that  you  spoke  irouically,"  said  Mrs.  iioy- 
Bton,  getting  red. 

"■  If  you  take  it  as  ironical,  prav  do.  But  I  do  not  see  why 
you  lia\e  not  as  much  rigiil  tu  think  of  nothing  but  your  babies, 
us  a  lishernum  has  of  fishin;r." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  271 

"  But  I  did  not  mean  to  be  unkind,  Lotty." 

"  I  am  persuaded  of  that,"  said  Margaret,  gently  ;  "  so,  pray 
make  no  more  excuses.  My  little  boy  is  quite  well,  thank  you  ; 
I  left  him  with  his  sister  and  the  nurse  just  by  those  rocks  that 
you  see  half  a  mile  off.  He  was  intent  upon  making  a  fortifica- 
tion on  the  sand." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  Did  you  leave  them  all  alone,  with  only 
their  nurse,  and  such  a  number  of  ill-looking  fishermen  about?" 

"  I  have  done  the  same  for  the  last  month,  Carry,  without 
any  harm  arising  therefrom.i' 

"  Nurse,  turn  the  baby's  head  this  way  now,  I  begin  to  feel  a 
little  breeze  from  the  sea  ;  and,  Betsy,  you  do  the  same  by  Ara- 
bella. That's  my  pets  !  "  continued  Mrs.  Royston  ;  and  they 
were  both  kissed  by  their  mother,  for  submitting  to  the  change 
without  much  whimpering. 

"And  so  you  have  a  little  girl,  Margaret?  What  a  comfort 
that  is  !  And  is  she  a  nice,  healthy  child  —  or  has  she  the  same 
fearful  tendency  to  fits  that  jour  poor  boy  had  ?  " 

"  She  is  healthy  and  strong,  thank  you,"  began  Margaret, 

"And  Little  Harold  never  had  a  tit  in  his  life,"  interrupted 
Lotty. 

"  Dear  me,  how  strange  !  I  have  always  felt  so  much  for 
you,  dear  Margaret,  wondering  what  you  would  do  if  you  lost 
him  suddenlv " 

"  Good-by,  Carry,"  said  Lotty,  abruptly  ;  "I  must  go  and 
see  Avhat  my  pet  is  making  such  a  fuss  about." 

"  I  did  not  know  Lotty  had  a  child,"  said  Mrs.  Royston, 
looking  round,  as  the  little  indignant  thing  went  olF. 

"  Her  pet  is  her  dog,"  answered  Margaret. 

"  How  sad,"  said  Carry,  "  that  she  should  waste  her  time  and 
affections  upon  such  a  great  brute  !  Did  it  frighten  my  darling  ? 
Never  mind,  Ave  will  soon  beat  him  away." 

"  I  hope  Mr.  Royston  is  quite  well,"  said  the  gentle  Marga- 
ret. 

"  Indeed  I  know  nothing  about  him,"  answered  Carry,  with 
asperity  ;  "  he  insisted  upon  going  to  see  some  races,  though  the 
doctor  especially  enjoined  the  darlings  going  to  the  sea-side  ;  so, 
of  course,  if  he  neglected  his  duty  to  his  children,  I  was  not  so 
unfeeling.  Nurse,  throw  their  veils  up,  the  breeze  is  gone 
again." 

"  Good-by,  Carry,  for  the  present,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Good-by,  dear.  I  would  offer  to  accompany  you  on  your 
walk,  for  it  is  quite  a  pleasure  to  see  you  once  again,  and  I 


272  MARGARET. 

should  like  to  have  a  long  talk  with  you  about  our  children  ;  but, 
you  see,  I  never  leave  them.     P>ery  moment  requires  a  change 

—  which  none  but  a  fond  niotlior  can  see.  But  I  should  like  to 
call  ujjon  you,  and  have  a  chat  about  happy  old  times." 

Lotty,  as  if  intuitively  knowing  that  Carry  was  only  adding 
stab  to  stab,  now  called  ^Mar^arct,  and  they  left  the  sands  in  the 
peaceable  possession  of  Mrs.  Iloyston  and  her  nursery.  The 
next  day,  Lotty  besought  jNIargaret  to  go  out  at  an  unusual  hour. 
She  had  made  it  her  business,  in  the  early  morning,  to  discover 
Mrs.  Koyston's  sea-side  habits,  and.  for  several  days,  Avas  suc- 
cessful in  avoiding  a  collision  ;  l)ut  IMrs.  Ixoyston  discovered  that 
all  the  world  in  that  small  sea-bathing  place  Avere  thinking  and 
talking  of  nothing  but  the  fair,  pale  mourners,  clad  both  in  such 
deep  crape  ;  and  the  interest  and  excitement  about  them  was  none 
the  less  from  the  seclusion  in  Avhich  they  lived.  Their  history 
was  too  well  known,  through  public  report,  for  them  to  hope 
they  were  uni*ecognized.  But  tlie  fact  gained  them  this  advan- 
tage—  they  were  never  intruded  upon. 

Curious  eyes,  from  a  distance,  might  scan  their  every  move- 
ment with  interest,  while  gathered  groups  Avould  meet  only  to 
discuss  some  new  fact  concerning  them  ;  but  the  hard  hand  of 
fate  had  so  oppressed  them,  a  sacred  air  seemed  to  hallow  the 
spot  they  breathed  in,  rendering  it  too  holy  for  busy,  bustling, 
worldlv  thouirlits  to  enter.    Thus,  Avith  a  rare  fecliui?  of  delicacA', 

—  a  feeling  they  Avarmly  appreciated,  —  it  Avas  suthcient  for 
Lady  Leigh  to  select  her  portion  of  the  sands,  and  none  in- 
truded on  her.  Nevertheless,  the  little  Avorld  of  health-seekers, 
pleasure-hunters,  pebble-finders,  batliers,  sketchers,  and  all  that 
incongruous  crowd  avIio  frequent  a  Avatering-place,  each,  for  dif- 
ferent reasons  of  their  OAvn,  indemnified  themselves  for  their 
forlioaraiicc  ItA'  talking. 

Thus  Carry  found  herself,  on  a  sudden,  elevated  to  a  pinnacle 
of  Avonder  and  interest  that  she  had  never  gained,  even  as  the 
mother  of  the  most  charming  babes  in  the  world,  merely  be- 
cause she  Avas  seen  speaking,  on  apparently  intimate  terms,  Avilh 
the  objects  of  their  devoted  attention.  And  Avhen  it  Avas  dis- 
covered she  had  actually  been  at  school  Avith  both  of  them,  and 
bridi'siiiaid  to  one  of  them,  she  Avas  nearh'  torn  to  ])ieci's  (mcta- 
jihorically)  with  visits  and  questions.  Tlie  three  lovely  babies 
stood  in  great  danger  of  being  neglected,  while  Carry  Avas 
uudcrgf)ing  tiie  trying  ordeal  of  b»'iug  a  popular  cliaracter. 

On  the  third  day,  slie  announced  her  intention  of  calling. 
ISeverul   parties   invited    themselves    to    a  sea-side   tea    ou    her 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  273 

return,  that  they  might  gain  the  earliest  particulars  of  the  visit, 
and  be  ready  to  retail  them  all  at  bathing-time  next  morning. 
So  Carry  departed,  aware  that  from  every  window  of  the  Cres- 
cent her  progress  would  be  watched,  until  she  arrived  at  the 
little,  insulated,  ivy-bound  villa,  in  which  her  schoolfellows  had 
secluded  themselves  and  their  sorrows.  She  was  gorgeously 
apparelled  for  the  occasion,  and  the  three  white,  watery-eyed 
babies  shone  conspicuous  in  crimson  feathers,  and  broad  red 
sashes  to  match  ;  whereby  the  youngest  of  all  seemed  rather  to 
be  composed  entirely  of  sash,  without  reference  to  anything  of 
the  baby  kind.  It  was  a  strange,  incongruous  company  that 
was  thus  shown  into  the  cool,  dark  drawing-room,  where  the 
holy  spirit  of  pious,  patient  grief  sat  enthroned. 

"  Well,  dear  Margaret,  I  have  brought  the  dear  children  with 
me  ;  I  thought  they  would  serve  to  amuse  you  and  divert  your 
thoughts.  But,  Lotty,  would  you  oblige  me  by  turning  out  that 
horrid  dog?  My  darling  Arabella  is  beginning  to  whimper 
already." 

"  Bear,  go  away,"  said  the  Little  Bear,  in  her  most  morose 
mood. 

Bear  arose  majestically,  and  casting  a  glance  of  mingled  con- 
tempt and  disgust  upon  Mrs.  Royston  as  he  passed  her,  he 
reared  himself  up  to  his  full  proportions,  and,  with  wonderful 
skill,  got  out  of  the  window  and  disappeared. 

"  Law  !  "  said  Carry,  rather  alarmed,  "  what  an  odd  dog ! 
did  you  teach  hini  that,  Lotty?" 

"  I  never  teach  Bear  anything  but  to  love  me,"  answered  the 
Little  Bear,  with  the  nearest  attempt  to  a  growling  tone  she 
coidd  accomplish. 

"  It  is  very  wonderful,  Mrs.  Royston,"  said  Lady  Montagu, 
"to  see  how  that  dog  understands  Mrs.  Leigh.  You  need 
not  be  under  any  alarm  about  your  children,  for  I  can  assure 
you  he  is  more  like  an  old  nurse  with  little  Harold  and  his 
sister." 

"  Dear  me  !  are  they  not  afraid  of  him?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  think  no  treat  so  great  as  a  romp 
with  Bear.  His  services  are  often  required  to  amuse  baby, 
when  Margaret  lays  her  on  the  floor,  during  the  nurse's  meals." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  your  children  very  much,  Margaret," 
said  Carry,  secretly  wishing  to  compare  such  an  apparently  ill- 
used  baby  with  her  own,  so  much  more  carefully  nursed. 

They  were  brought  down  ;  and  even  in  the  half-withered  heart 
of  Margaret  there  rose  a  deep  feeling  of  pride  and  delight  as  she 


274  MARGARET 

showed  her  dead  Harold's  princely  boy  to  her  schoolfellow ; 
while  Lotty  recovered  Iut  g(Jud-huiuor,  as  she  took  iu  her  arms 
the  little,  laughing,  crowing  babe,  fair,  fresh,  and  sweet  as  new- 
plucked  violets —  a  striking  contrast  with  her  dark,  intelligent 
eyes  and  rosy,  baby  beauty,  to  the  poor  little  sash-laden  Royston 
baby. 

"  Make  your  bow,  Sir  Harold,"  said  the  nurse,  "  and  shake 
hands  witli  the  young  gentleman." 

Little  Harold  obeyed  with  the  gi'avity  and  propriety  of  a  high- 
ly-bred young  courtier,  and  then  looking  round,  said,  "  Where 
is  Bear?" 

At  (he  ."^ound  of  his  name,  a  pair  of  deep-set  eyes,  and  fine 
drooping  ears,  became  visible  over  the  window-sill. 

"  O  !  don't  let  him  come  in  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Koyston,  who  was 
beginning  to  tiiiuk  Bear  something  of  the  demoniacal  order. 

Bear  showed  all  his  fangs,  as  he  smiled  a  grim,  sardonic 
smile  of  scorn,  and  disappeared. 

"  Bear  is  a  good  dog,  ma'am,"  said  young  Harold,  eying  her 
with  irrepressible  curiosity. 

''  Ah  !  my  dear,  you  don't  know  what  he  might  do  if  you 
were  alone  with  him  ;  he  might  eat  you  up,  for  he  is  as  big 
as  a  wolf." 

"  He  would  eat  the  wolf  up,  or  kill  him  as  Gelert  did  Prince 
Llewellyn's  dog." 

"  I  do  not  know  Prince  Llewellyn,  dear ;  but  if  I  was  your 
mamma,  I  would  not  trust,  you,  an  only  son,  and  likely  to  be  so, 
and  a  title  to  keep  uj),  Avith  such  a  great  beast  as  that." 

The  greater  part  of  tliis  speech  being  Greek  to  young  ILirold, 
he  contented  himself  with  asking  if  he  should  read  to  her  tlie 
history  of  Prince  Llewellyn. 

"  Head !  good  heavens  !  Margaret,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me 
your  boy  reads  at  his  age  ?  He'll  die  of  water  on  the  brain, 
mark  my  word." 

^  ''  It  is  rather  too  soon  to  teach  him  much  ;  but  having,  for 
his  own  amusement,  shown  him  the  letters,  he  has  almost  taught 
himself  the  words." 

"  It's  wonderfid  ho  continues  to  look  so  healthy,"  answered 
Mrs.  Koyston,  scanning  the  tine  straigiit  linil)s  ol'  the  boy,  and 
unable  U)  detect  a  flaw  in  the  beautiful,  blooming  face.  "  And 
how  olil  is  baity?  J  do  not  r(*menibcr  to  have  seen  her  birth 
in  the  paper." 

"  My  little  granddaughter,"  answered  Lady  Montagu,  with 
bolemu  gravity,  "is  eight  months  old;  she  came  to  bless  her 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  '  275 

mother's  life  with  a  new  interest,  at  a  time  when  God  seemed  to 
have  forsaken  her." 

"  She  is  a  gift  from  the  sea,"  murmured  Lotty,  kissing  her 
little  namesake  and  godchild. 

"  Ai'e  your  children  strong  and  healthy?"  asked  Margaret, 
whose  cheeks  flushed  and  paled  with  every  word,  for  all  she 
spoke  so  calmly. 

This  proved  a  fortunate  question  in  some  respects,  for  though 
it  led  Mrs.  Royston  into  a  long  and  uninteresting  history  of  her 
three  children,  and  the  showing  forth  of  their  various  perfections 
and  talents,  it  was  only  tiresome,  and  not  wounding.  Once  upon 
the  topic,  like  a  good  hound  in  full  cry,  Mrs.  Royston  nor  stopped 
nor  stayed  for  any  other  matter,  and  the  rest  of  her  visit  passed 
off  pretty  well. 

Upon  her  return  to  her  own  house,  she  w^as  enabled  to  report 
a  vast  quantity  of  new  materials  to  the  general  fund  of  conver- 
sation. And  though  these  were  somewhat  mixed  up  with  "  I 
gave  her  my  mind  ;  and  I  told  her  what  I  did  in  Cecil's  case  ; 
and  I  advised  her  to  treat  her  exactly  as  I  did  Arabella,"  with 
further  enlightenments  regarding  those  interesting  points,  yet 
they  learned  many  new  facts.  Such  as,  —  "The  boy  was  called 
Sir  Harold  already  by  his  nurse.  Tiie  girl  was  eight  months' 
old,  and  born  very  mysteriously.  The  yoimg  Sir  Harold  could 
read,  and  had  a  very  broad  forehead,  indicative  of  water  on  the 
brain.  Mrs.  Leigh  wore  no  widow's  cap  in  the  house,  but  Lady 
Leigh  looked  all  cap,  her  face  was  so  small  and  thin.  The 
nurse  kissed  the  baby,  just  as  if  it  was  her  own,  and  ordered 
young  Sir  Harold  about  as  if  he  was  only  a  common  boy.  But 
Lady  Leigh  was  given  that  Avay ;  she  had  always  allowed  her 
servants  to  take  libei'ties.  Young  Sir  Harold  wore  a  common 
brown  Holland  pinafore,  and  the  great  dog  was  a  demon,  just 
that,  and  more." 

By  the  next  morning,  all  these  interesting  particulars  had 
increased  tenfold  ;  consequently,  whenever  Bear  inadvertently, 
allured  by  an  innocent  hilarity,  ventured  to  extend  his  gallops 
beyond  a  certain  verge,  a  general  flight  of  brown  straw  hats, 
frantic  nurses,  and  alarmed  children,  took  place,  cleai'ing  the 
sands  like  magic. 

Having  gained  her  purpose,  namely,  that  Margaret  shoidd 
get  over  the  first  shock  of  seeing  that  remorseless,  but  beautiful 
destroyer  of  her  happiness.  Lady  Montagu  proposed  a  return 
home. 

A  third  visit  from  Carry  hastened  them.    They  could  not  hope 


276  MARGARET 

she  "would  al'R'ajs  talk  of  lior  children,  and  even  that  hope,  as 
Lotty  said,  ''she  wished  was  safely  deposited  in  Pandora's  box." 

The  hope  was  becoming  worse  than  the  disease. 

*  »  #  * 

Thcj  found  Lady  Ivathcrine  overflowing  with  health  and  de- 
light at  seeing  them.  Pi'u.,  thin,  nervous,  and  iidgety ;  Mr. 
Grey,  solemn  and  silent,  very  unusual  for  him. 

"  Pru.,  what  have  you  been  doing  to  Mr.  Grey?  "  said  Lotty, 
severely. 

"  O  !  my  dear,  dear  Lotty  !  I  do  not  know.  I  am  so  unhappy, 
I  have  been  longing  for  you  every  day." 

"  Have  you  refused  the  poor  man  ? "  again  asked  the  stern 
little  questioner.  "  For  if  you  have,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  ask 
Bear's  consent  to  marry  him  myself." 

Here  Pru.  wept ;  and  between  sobs  and  tears,  much  misgiv- 
ings, and  great  takings  on,  Lotty  made  out  that  Mr.  Cii'ey  talked 
of  going  away,  leaving  Rose  Leigh,  High  Leigh,  all  the  Leighs, 
as  soon  as  he  could  lind  a  substitute. 

"Alack  and  alas  !     This  happens  because  I  went  away." 

"  Of  course  it  does,  dear  Lotty." 

"  He  thinks  he  ought  to  leave  because  he  loves  you,  and  must 
not  take  advantage  of  Lady  Katherine's  present  bias  in  his  favor." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  dear  Lotty,  that  is  just  it,  if  you  will  not  think 
me  very  conceited." 

"No  !  not  vciy  ;  but  I  think  he  carries  his  ideas  of  honor  too 
far." 

"  Yes,  yes,  a  great  deal ;  indeed,  indeed,  Lotty,  he  is  far  too 
honorable." 

"  AVell,  that  is  not  a  fashionable  crime  ;  so  you  think  he  loves 

you ! '' 

"  Yes,  dear  Lotty,"  answered  Pru.,  blushing  and  faltering. 
"  Though  he  rarely  speaks  to  me,  he  always  does  everytliing  for 
me." 

"  As  how  !  " 

"He  always  opens  the  door  for  me,  and  always  sets  my  chair, 
and  he  watches  me  silently,  and  he  picks  up  my  knotting." 

"  Poor  man  !  he  must  be  worked  to  death.  And  does  your 
mother  say  nothing?" 

"  No  !  she  oidy  seems  to  like  him  more  every  day,  and  she 
calls  him  John  ;   tliiuk  of  that  now,  Lotty  !  " 

"  Iliiiuph  I   and  du  you  call  him  John?" 

'•  U,  uo  !  Lotty.  How  can  you  think  so,  or  that  1  would  so 
far  forget  myself?  " 


AND  HEB  BRIDESMAIDS.  277 

"  I'll  bet  you  a  lock  of  Bear's  hair  against  one  of  Mr.  Grey's, 
that  you  call  him  John  soon." 

"  Lotty,  Lotty  !  you  are  no  wiser  since  you  went  to  the  sea- 
side —  you  will  joke." 

"  We  met  Mrs.  Royston  there,  which  was  no  joke.  Now,  dry 
your  eyes,  look  happy,  and  try  to  sit  still  for  an  hour  ;  then  if  I 
find  you  have  done  so,  and  are  a  good  girl,  I  may  have  some 
news  for  you.     Kiss  me,  just  to  show  we  are  friends." 

"  As  if  I  ever  thought  otherwise,  Lotty." 

An  hour  afterwards,  Margaret  was  seated  with  Lady  Katherine. 

"  Mother,"  said  the  low,  soft  voice,  like  a  gentle  breath  blow- 
ing through  myrtle  leaves,  "Mr.  Grey  talks  of  leaving  us." 

"  Ah,  my  daughter,  my  child,  say  not  so  —  what  should  I  be 
without  him  ?  " 

"  He  loves  our  Charlotte  now,  as  he  did  ten  years  ago." 

"Is  it  true?  can  so  great  a  blessing  be  vouchsafed  to  me, 
unworthy  siuuer  as  I  am  ?  Ah  !  Margaret,  but  for  him  I  never 
should  have  borne  the  sight  of  your  sweet  face  again.  But  for 
him  I  never  would  have  knelt  to  the  God  I  so  sinned  against." 

"  I  know  it,  mother :  it  is  my  wish,  it  has  long  been  so,  that 
you  should  give  him  the  sacred  title  of  son." 

"  Bless  you  !  Heaven  bless  my  Margaret !  I  know  not  Avhich 
way  my  weak,  foolish  feet  would  lead  me,  but  for  his  sustaining 
arm.  I  am  but  a  child,  Margaret,  in  such  ways,  still  blindly 
stumbling  among  all  my  former  wicked  sins." 

"  Nay,  mother,  think  not  thus  ;  a  loss  such  as  ours,  leads  us 
straight  to  God's  footstool.  But  Mr.  Grey  —  he  thinks  if  he 
asked  you  now  for  our  Charlotte,  you  would  not  refuse,  but  he 
fears  you  would  repent  hereafter." 

"  Never,  never  ;   ah  !  Margaret,  how  can  I  convince  him?  " 

"  You  must  speak  to  him,  mother,  and  learn  his  real  feelings. 
Then  you  must  say  (after  he  has  really  told  you  he  loves  her) , 
that  I  would  take  it  kindly  of  him,  if  he  will  occupy  in  your 
bereaved  heart  the  place  of  my  Harold." 

"  Ah  !  my  daughter." 

"  Yes,  mother,  it  is  so.  Then  if  his  feelings  are  still  scrupu- 
lous-, we  must  send  for  Basil.  Perhaps  our  Lotty  may  devise 
something." 

"  That  she  has  done  already,"  said  Lotty,  entering  as  she 
spoke.  "  I  have  told  him  that  even  if  Gerald  Herbert  does 
come  home,  you  are  going  to  build  a  new  church.  I  am  going 
to  endow  it,  and  he  will  be  required  to  serve  it.  I  also  gave  him 
a  sermon,  under  three  heads,  with  an  excellent  text,  on  the  folly 
24 


278  MARGARET 

of  being  too  scrnpulons,  and  the  inconvenience  of  having  an 
undue  proportion  of  conscieutiousne.s.s.  And  that  the  heart  of 
an  hone,-?t,  good  man,  showed  its  sense  hy  acting  with  calm  dis- 
cretion and  judgment,  and  not  flighting  violently  off  into  most 
uncomfortable  but  grandly  heroic  acts,  that  generally  killed  two 
or  three  people  at  the  onset,  and  made  all  the  rest  so  miserable, 
they  wished  themselves  dead  also.  '  For  my  part,'  I  said, 
'  ■when  I  see  a  man  acting  in  an  outrageous  manner,  I  mean  out- 
raging nature,  and  all  the  good  feelings  we  get  from  Heaven, 
because  he  fears  the  world  may  deem  him  acting  an  interested 
part,  I  then  think  he  is  a  hypocrite.  Most  part  of  his  feelings 
regard  himseli,  and  the  rest  are  worth  nothing.'  Whereat  he 
■winced  capitally,  (^ueen  Margaret.  All  men  are  weak  on  some 
point,  and  Mr.  Cirey's  is  a  desire  to  be  thouglit  highly  sincere." 

"  He  is  a  good,  excellent  man,  and  I  would  he  were  my  son, 
Lotty,  if  I  am  worthy  to  have  such,"  said  Lady  Katherine. 

"  I  think  he  is  going  to  speak  to  you  the  first  opportunity, 
madam ;  for,  as  I  said  to  him,  '  Do  you  mean  us  to  go  down  on 
our  knees  and  ask  you  to  become  connected  with  us  ? '  he  red- 
dened in  a  violent  blush,  and  said,  '  God  forbid  that  I  should 
expect  as  a  right  what  1  would  beseech  as  Heaven's  best  boon.' 
Rather  pretty  ;  I  have  treasured  up  the  words  for  Pru.'s  benefit 
some  day." 

"  Where  is  he  now?"  asked  Margaret. 

"  He  is  perambulating  the  cedar  walk.  I  know,  by  the 
expression  of  his  face,  and  the  manner  of  his  walk,  he  is  going 
to  search  his  heart,  and  lay  it  before  God.  He  is  a  good  man, 
trulv,  but  I  fear  he  would  have  borne  his  own  burden  of  the 
flesh  bravely  and  silently,  save  for  Pru.'s  sake.  So  you  like  my 
Lairds.  Margaret?" 

•*  Yes,  Lotty,  how  they  love  you  !  Ah  !  my  little  Lotty,  what 
did  I  not  hear  of  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid,  dear  child,  you  must  have  suifered  much  with 
poor  Philip,"  said  Lady  Katherine. 

"  Nay,  madam,  ask  ^Irs.  Laird  ;  she  will  tell  you  I  was  aye 
a  feckless  bairn,  and  no  fit  for  a  wife.  Margaret,  don't  you 
love  Miss  Rachel?" 

"  Yes,  Lutty,  with  a  strange  love  too  ;  it  is  so  unlike  any- 
thing I  ever  felt  before  for  any  one." 

"  Come,  come,  I  shall  be  jealous  ;  hut  in  her  quiet,  simple, 
earnest  luaiuier.  I  see  alwavs  before  me  tlie  wise  virgin,  with 
her  lamp  trimmed,  waiting  with  wistful,  loving  eyes,  the  coming 
of  her  Lord.     She  has  had  much  sorrow." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  279 

"  And  the  last  brimmed  her  cup." 

"  For  a  time,  Margaret.  For  she  says,  now  she  can  see  the 
vista  of  a  peacefvd  close  to  her  life,  the  only  time  of  rest  she  has 
ever  enjoyed.  I  like  to  see  you  together.  You  are  the  stricken 
angel  whose  dove's  Avings  are  shattered  and  broken ;  she  is  the 
grave  pilgrim,  quietly  marching,  with  upturned  face,  over  the 
cutting  stones  and  rude  paths  of  this  earth,  imheeding  aught  but 
the  light  beyond." 

*'  She  does  me  good,  Lotty." 

"  I  know  it,  Margaret.  Hand  in  hand  your  treasure  and 
hers  passed  into  the  rough  sea  of  death  together.  Hand  in  hand 
you  two  will  walk  through  life,  supporting  each  other  in  the 
same  hope  and  wish.  But  here  comes  Mr.  Grey.  See,  Mar- 
garet, his  step  is  firm,  his  head  thrown  back,  his  eyes  bright. 
He  and  his  conscience  have  settled  the  matter  comfortably.  He 
is  coming  straight  to  ask  Lady  Katherine  to  be  his  mother,  like 
an  honest  English  gentleman." 

"  Dear  Lady  Katherine  !  "  said  Mr.  Grey,  approaching  her  at 
once,  on  entering,  without  heeding  Margaret  and  Lotty,  "  may 
I  be  your  son  ?  May  I  express  the  love  that  has  been  so  long 
burning  in  my  heart  for  your  Charlotte,  and  ask  her  to  be  my 
wife?" 

Old  Lady  Katherine  elevated  herself  to  her  utmost  height,  as 
she  would  have  done  in  former  days,  on  some  grand  court  day. 
But  this  time  her  only  motive  was  to  put  her  arms  round  Mr. 
Grey's  neck,  and  say  :  '  God  bless  you,  my  son,  my  dear  son  ! 
for  making  me  thus  happy." 

"  But  you?  "  said  Mr.  Grey,  turning  half  to  Margaret,  while 
he  supported  Lady  Katherine  still. 

"  I  Avish  you  to  be  Harold  to  her,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Are  they  not  too  kind,  Mrs.  Leigh?  Tell  me,  am  I  not  too 
presumptuous  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  great  deal.  How  do  you  know  if  Pru.  Avill  have 
you?  "  answered  she. 

"  O  !  go  for  her  ;  send  for  my  Charlotte.  Let  me  know,  ere  I 
sleep  to-night,  that  this  happiness  is  really  to  be  mine,"  cried 
Lady  Katherine. 

"■  I  will  seek  her,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  for  I  agree  with  you,  the 
sooner  Ave  get  the  matter  settled  the  better." 

"Pru.,  Pru.,"  said  she,  on  discoA^ering  the  object  of  her 
search,  still  sitting  Avhere  she  had  left  her,  "  your  mother  Avants 
you  immediately  to  knot." 

"  I  will  come,"  said  Pru.,  with  sighing  meekness. 


280  MARGARET 

"  She  docs  not  require  you  for  the  usual  sort  of  knotflnjr,  but 
for  quite  a  new  kind  of  work,  -wliich  may  be  styled  knitting 
knot.s,"  continued  the  fliglity  Lotty,  as  they  went  down  stairs. 

"  Knotting  is  rather  wearisome,"  sighed  Pru. 

"  AVell,  if  this  new  work  proves  so,  whistle  for  Bear,  and  he 
will  undo  it  all." 

This  time  Lady  Katherine  did  not  insist  upon  the  oifer  taking 
place  imder  the  walnut  trees,  in  full  sight  of  her  decorous  eyes. 
But  Pru.  found  herself,  all  of  a  sudden,  alone,  in  the  small, 
green  drawing-room  with  Mr.  Grey  ;  and  before  she  had  time 
to  recover  that  fact,  he  had  gently  drawn  her  close  to  his  heart, 
and  was  beseeching  her  with  eyes  and  speech,  to  bless  him  with 
the  gift  of  her  heart,  and  suifer  him  to  call  by  the  holy  name  of 
"  "wife,"  the  woman  he  had  loved  so  long  and  Avell. 


CHAPTEE     LXII. 

Miss  Rachel  Cl^vke  was  a  woman  with  whom  the  world  had 
dealt  hardly  from  her  earliest  childhood.  Her  father  was  no 
whit  behind  any  of  the  Clares  in  vice  and  Avickedness,  but  had 
distinguished  himself  among  them  by  breaking  the  heart  of  a 
gentle,  amiable  wife,  causing  the  early  deatlis  of  all  his  children, 
save  two,  from  harshness  and  privations,  and  grinding  down  liis 
poor  daughter's  soul  to  the  cxtremost  point  of  suflering  and 
degradation  ;  until,  fortunately  for  her,  and  the  little  baby  sister, 
whom  all  liad  cared  for,  in  the  midst  of  their  troubles,  the 
measure  of  his  iniquities  was  completed.  He  Avas  called  to  his 
account. 

Upon  his  death.  Miss  Clare  found  herself  and  her  little  sister 
totally  destitute.  But  now  that  her  fate  was  in  lur  own  hands, 
it  was  no  part  of  her  creed  to  endure  the  worst  suffering  of  all, 
namely,  a  precarious  dependence  upou  the  scant  humiliating 
charity  of  her  relations. 

She  opened  ii  day  school,  and  toiled  early  and  late  the  first 
year,  to  nuike  both  ends  meet.  She  was  successful  beyond  her 
hopes,  though  her  exert if)ns  and  anxieties  paled  her  cheek  for- 
ever, and  caused  the  gray  hairs  of  age  to  take  early  possession 
of  ihi'ir  place.  She  liiid  hut  one  pleasure,  the  love  of  her  little 
aister ;  and  us  she    bloomed    into    the    beauty  peculiar  to   the 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  281 

Clares,  she  gave  greater  proofs  of  goodness  than  were  usual  in 
that  family.  Rachel  still  worked  harder  than  she  ought,  to  give 
her  little  Fanny  all  the  advantages  she  was  born  to,  and  perhaps 
was  somewhat  injudicious  in  suftering  the  pretty,  little,  gay  girl, 
to  taste  of  pleasures,  however  sparingl}-,  in  which  she  did  not 
share.  A  little  wilfulness  was  beginning  to  spring  up  on  the 
part  of  Fanny,  which  was  just  shadowing  out  an  ominous  cloud 
of  further  sorrow  for  Rachel,  when  a  terrible,  fearful  death  put 
an  end  to  both  feelings  forever. 

The  first  breath  of  this  awful  intelligence  came  upon  Rachel 
like  a  withering  simoom.  They  had  parted  in  auger.  The 
elder  sister  remembered  the  sharp  words  of  reproof  with  which 
she  had  dismissed  her  wilful  Fanny  —  yet"  her  darling,  her 
pride,  her  sole  happiness.  Never  more  should  she  hear  the  lit- 
tle, soft  lips  beseech  the  pardon  she  was  sure  to  demand  ;  never 
more  should  she  press  them  again  in  full  forgiveness.  The  time 
was  past,  gone  :  unforgiven  —  unkissed  —  unblest,  the  little,  girl- 
ish thing  of  sixteen  had  met  a  terrible  fate,  with  no  tender  ear 
to  hear  her  last  cries  of  despair ;  no  fond,  sisterly  arm  to 
become  her  sheltering  tomb.  Unable  to  save,  yet  happy  to  die, 
so  that  they  had  died  together,  was  Rachel's  thought.  There 
were  none  to  sympathize  with  her  —  none  to  console.  The 
Clares  were  but  little  loved,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  tlie 
terrible  death  of  one  rich  and  well-born,  like  Sir  Plarold  Lei^h, 
absorbed  all  interest,  leaving  none  to  bestow  upon  the  youu<^ 
and  thoughtless  jjirl. 

Nothing  was  now  left  to  her  but  to  die.  She  prayed  of  God 
to  take  her,  that  she  might  the  sooner  meet  the  little  spirit 
scared  from  its  earthly  tenement  so  fearfully  ;  and  yet  reason 
and  life  remained  to  her. 

How  long  the  struggle  might  have  lasted,  it  is  hard  to  say  ; 
but,  like  a  messenger  from  her  little  sister,  came  Lord  Erls- 
court,  bearing  in  his  hand,  not  only  her  last  words  from  the  sea, 
but  the  consoling  sympathy  of  hearts  mourning  still  more 
deeply  than  her  own.  She  was  ready  to  perform  the  bidding 
of  those  who  were  henceforward  to  be  connected  with  her  by 
sorrow,  that  strong  binder  of  heart  to  heart. 

She  barely  took  time  to  read  her  Fanny's  dying  words,  so 
urged  was  she  in  spirit  to  adjourn  at  once  to  a  country  and 
people  where  sympathy  would  hallow  her  grief  and  render  it 
bearable.  Away  from  Cowes,  the  scene  of  all  her  hard  life, 
she  might  hope  to  find  consolation  in  thinking  of  her  little  one  ; 
she  could  better  school  herself  to  endure  her  loss,  take  com- 
24* 


282  MARGARET 

fort  from  her  words,  and  look  on  grief  more  bitter  than  her 
own. 

AVith  Fanny's  letter  close  to  her  heart,  the  poor,  lonely  Rachel 
left  Cowes  in  Lord  I^rl.>court's  company  the  same  cvenuig  ;  and 
ere  she  arrived  at  her  futnre  abode,  the  Rectory,  gratitude  and 
hope  brought  a  pulse  of  life  into  it.  She  looked  with  interest  at 
her  new  home,  around  which  no  painful  recollections  gathered 
themselves,  and  thouglit  that  case  and  comfort  would  now  be 
hers,  for  Lord  Erlscourt's  arrangement  was  riches  to  her. 
Under  these  circumstancos  she  could  read  and  weep  over  her 
Fanny's  letter,  without  feeling  that  God  had  entirely  deserted 
her.  But  when  she  saw  that  pale,  stricken  wife,  Avithin  whose 
shadowy  eyes  tliere  dwelt  a  look  so  sad,  so  desolate,  yet  withal 
so  resigned  and  unearthlike,  she  folded  her  hands  in  prayer  to 
God,  beseeching  him  to  look  down  in  pitying  love  upon  such  woe. 

And  then  she  joined  her  efforts  to  those  of  all  around  her, 
to  watch  over  and  guard  that  "wearied  and  heavy-laden" 
mourner. 

She  placed  in  poor  Margaret's  hands,  Avithout  a  word,  her 
treasured  letter,  over  which  she  nightly  prayed,  rightly  judging 
that  the  artless  Avords  Avould  have  tlieir  due  effect.  It  was  as 
follows,  partly  Avrittcn  by  Sir  Harold  and  partly  by  the  little 
girl  herself,  just  sixteen. 

"  ]\Iy  mother-sister,  your  Fanny  will  never  see  you  more.  Is 
not  that  sorrow  enough  to  break  her  heart  ?  —  and  yet  there  is 
sometliing  worse  before  her.  Great  waves  ar^  rising  high  on 
every  side,  and  they  rush  in  anger  on  our  ship.  0  !  sister,  your 
little  Fanny  sees  them  coming,  and  knows  they  will  soon  ingulf 
her,  and  she  will  be  but  a  little  reed,  broken  and  crushed  in 
those  wild  waters.  Your  little,  petted,  indulged  Fanny,  who 
would  have  shrunk  at  the  touch  of  death,  even  circled  in  your 
dear  arms.  But  tliere  is  one  very  kind  and  good  to  me.  Sir 
Harold  Leigh  ;  he  writes  these  words  for  me,  because  I  tremble, 
sister.  I  think  how  I  left  you  in  anger,  but  if  God  hears  the 
prayers  of  such  a  little  thing  as  I  am,  he  will  hear  me  asking 
pardon  of  you,  my  only  nujther.  Bui  I  must  drown  in  those 
dreadful  waves,  and  never  hear  you  say,  '  I  love  my  Fanny  more 
than  all  tlie  world.'  Sir  Harold  says  God  hears  my  slightest 
word,  even  in  this  wild  tumult.  I  pray  that  he  may  not  hear 
pool-  Au;^iista — slie  raves.  And  yet  she  leaves  none  behind 
her  to  mourn  as  that  Margaret  will,  whom  Sir  Harold  names 
with  every  ])rayer,  or  even  as  my  Rachel,  when  she  hears  of 
her  little  Funny's  doom.     He  has  read  to  me  that  Holy  Book, 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  283 

and  he  has  prayed  for  me,  because  I  am  so  weak  and  trembling, 
sister.     I  tliink,  if  we  had  parted  in  love,  I  might  have  been 
braver,  I  might  have  been   sure  that  God  would  listen  to  my 
pi'ayer.     But,  sister-mother,  he  says  I  must  comfort  you.     What 
shall  I  say?     You  Avill  look  at  his  Margaret,  and  then  feel  that 
your  loss  is  as  a  drop  of  water  to  hei*  ocean  of  grief.     And  if  I 
am  wayward  now,  I  might  have  become  worse.      Sister,  perhaps 
God  has  taken  me  from  the  evil  to  come.     I  think  to  myself,  it 
will  be  but  one  shock,  and  then  I  shall  be  safe  in  heaven,  and 
can  never  more  be  wilful  and  disobedient.     I  might  have  be- 
come very  naughty.     I  felt  pleased  to  be  thought  like  Augusta, 
and  O  !  Rachel,  if  you  could  see  her  now,  —  God  have  pity  on 
her !     No  prayer   comes  from  her  lips  —  she  cannot  hear  the 
Holy  Book  —  she  will  not  listen  to  the  calm  Avords  of  resigna- 
tion that  Sir  Hai'old  has  for  all  —  yes,  all  of  us.     He  has  gone 
on  deck,  and  said,  if  I  wrote  but  one  line,  it  Avould  comfort  you. 
And  I  make  the  trial,  if  it  is  but  to  tell  you,  Rachel,  that  this 
good  and  noble  man  has  saved  his  soul,  I  feel ;  for  during  these 
three  days  of  anguish  and  fear,  he  has  been  the  comforter,  the 
supporter  of  all.     The  meanest  man  among  the  crew,  receives 
from  him  the  same  care  and  thought  that  I  do,  a  little,  weak, 
timid  girl.     By  his  piety,  fortitude,  and  solemn  preparation  for 
death,  he  has  nerved  many  a  Aveak  soul  on  board  ;  and  when 
our  awful  summons  comes,  he  will  take  with  him,  in  the  same 
hour  that  his  own  soul  is  required,  all  those  whom  he  has  tlius 
fortified.      They  look  at  him  with  wonder  and  admiration.    And 
I  like  to  think,  sister,  that  perhaps  already  the  Holy  Son  of  God 
is  hovering  halfway  between  heaven  and  earth,  ready  to  take 
the  fine  and  noble  spirit  so  fitted  for  Paradise,  at  once  there. 
And  I  may  hope  to  go  with  him,  and  many  others  think  as  I  do, 
I  know.     And,  Rachel,  you  will  be  able  to  tell  her  this,  that 
Margaret  whom  he  says  will  comfort  you,  she  will  like  to  know 
that  this  Harold,  whom  she  loves  so  well,  made  a  little  weak 
girl   fearless   and   resigned,   by   his   noble   example.     The  ship 
drives  so,  Rachel,  you  must  not  think  I  tremble  now  by  my 
writing.     In  a  short  time  all  will  be  over.     When  you  mourn 
for  Fanny,  remember  who  has  lost  a  Harold,  and  thank  God, 
that   you    may    endeavor    to    comfort   her.      For,    dear    sister- 
mother,  a  lifetime  thus  spent,  would  be  all  too  little  to  repay 
what  he  has  done,  througli  the  mercy  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  the 
soul  of  your  little,  fond,  loving  Fanny." 


284  MARGARET 


CHAPTER    LXIII. 

So  Lotly's  Viirtlulay  came  afraiii.  And  the  snoAv  was  deep  on 
the  ground,  and  the  branches  of  the  trees  Avere  all  marked  out 
in  pure  white  lines  against  the  deep  blue  sky. 

Lotty  and  Bear  were  out  walking,  and  the  crisp  snow  sounded 
under  their  feet  as  they  went,  with  a  cheerful,  pleasant  noise  ; 
and  Lotty's  breath  rose  up  in  the  clear,  frosty  air,  like  a  little 
tiny  cloud,  while  Bear's  enveloped  him  all  in  a  mist,  that  settled 
itself  in  small  icicles  over  his  bristles,  cars,  and  coat,  making 
him  look,  for  the  nonce,  an  aged,  gray-haired  dog. 

They  had  had  a  very  busy  year,  and  had  done  a  great  many 
things,  and  now  they  were  looking  forward  to  this  year  as  one 
which  should  raise  the  heavy  pressure  of  grief  from  the  hearts 
they  loved  l>est,  and  permit  the  dim  eyes  of  sorrow  to  look  once 
more  with  pleasure  on  the  world  in  which  they  lived. 

Fresh,  briglit,  beautiful  frost  !  No  Avonder  Lotty  and  Bear 
bounded  along  as  if  still  very  childish,  both  of  them. 

They  were  going  to  High  Leigh  in  the  early  morning,  to  see 
Mr.  and  jMrs.  Laird,  get  a  cup  of  milk  Avarm  from  Mrs.  Laird's 
beautiful  Ayrshire  cow,  and  be  back  by  Margaret's  breakfast 
hour. 

"  Ech,  bairn  !  but  ye  luik  like  a  rosebud  the  morn.  And  sae 
ye  air  nineteen  years  awld  the  day.  One  wouldn't  think  it,  to 
luik  at  her,  Aleck  !  but  she  has  had  a  world  o'  sorrow  to  mak 
up.  Ye  ought  to  hae  been  graylieaded  the  noo,  bairn,  wi'  a' 
yer  troubles." 

"  You  see  I  have  such  a  hard  heart,  Mrs.  Laird." 

"■Hard  heart!  at  no  hand,  bairn,  say  that ;  if  yer  heart  is 
hard,  Avhatten  a  sort  o' heart  hae  ither  folks  getten?  Hae  ye 
ony  news  for  us?" 

"  Yes,  you  are  to  please  to  come  and  dine  to-day,  you  and  the 
doctor,  at  Court  Lcigii." 

"  And  wha  will  we  meet,  think  you?  " 

"  First,  there  will  be  Lady  Katheriuc." 

"  Ech  !  j)uir  l)il  silly  body,  she  has  nae  such  sense  as  even  the 
big  doggie." 

'•  J'ut  it  is  better  to  see  her  so  humble  and  childlike  as  she  is, 
Mrs.  Laird,  than  what  she  was  before." 

"  I  diuna  luve  to  see  auld,  ancient  folks  like  her  leaning  on 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  285 

little  bairns  like  yoti  for  counsel  and  advice.     It's  no  natural ; 

and  when  ye  are  to  the  fore,  or  the  pretty  Lady  Leigh,  she'll 

no  step  the  floor,  unless  ye  advise  her." 

"  That   is  her   humility ;    she  Avishes   to    make  up  to  Lady 

Leigh  for  the  great  sorrow  of  her  life,  and  so  trusts  her  like  a 

little  child." 

"  It's  no  canny,  my  bairn,  and  she  must  aye  hae  been  but  a 

silly  body,  at  the  best ;  sae  gang  on  wi'  the  rest,  though  she  be 

the  grandest  leddy  there." 

"  Then  there  is  Lord  Erlscourt,  and  his  two  brothers." 

"  I'll  aye  hae  to  pit  on  a'  my  best  claithes.     Them  is  folk  now, 

and  I  maun  tell  the  doctor  to  hae  his  finest  wits  about  him." 
"  Are  you  afraid  of  Laii'd  Erlscourt,  Mrs.  Laird?" 
*'  Na,  na,  bairn,  but  we  maun  aye  pay  respect  to  our  betters." 
"  But  you  would  not  put  on  your  best  gown  for  Lady  Kathe- 

rine." 

"  Hoot,  bairn  !  you're  no  wise  the  morn.     Div  ye  no  see  the 

differ  atween  a  man  like  my  Laird  Erlscourt  and  thon?     I'm 

thinking  there  ne'er  was  a  body  like  him  for  sense  and  goodness, 

whether  he  is  a  laird,  or  no  but  a  common  mon,  like  my  doctor. 

Ay,  me  !  but  I'll  pit  on  my  cap  o'  Limerick  lace.      And  wha 

else,  ye  bit  thing?  " 

"  There  will  be  Mr.  Frank,  and  Mrs.  Frank." 

"  Ay  !  them's  nice  people,  heartsome  folk  ;  and  though  she's 

a  bit,  joost  ye  ken,  stiff  like,  I'm  thinking  it's  muir  shyness  than 

pride.     And  they  bit  bonnie  twins.     Nae  Avonder  to  see  their 

father  doighted  about  them." 

"  But  the  twins  won't  dine  with  us." 

"  Come,  come,  naue  o'  yer  clavers  ;  ye  mak  nae  jokes  o'  me, 

ye  bit  mischief !     I'll  be  axing  ye  next  if  Bear  is  to  be  at  the 

banquet.     And  wha  else  div  ye  expect?" 

"  There  will  be  two  of  my  brothers,  and  some  more  of  my 

people " 

''  The  mair  the  better,  say  I,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Laird. 

"  And  Miss  Leigh,  and  Mr.  Grey,  and  Rachel " 

"  Ay,  my  word,  to  think  of  ye  being   such  a  match-maker. 

They  tell  n:ie,  as  you  telled  that  puir,  silly  body.  Lady  Katheriue, 

it  Avad  be  a  guid  thing  did  her  and  him  marry.     And  she  said 

'  Ay,'  at  the  first  Avord." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  Avill  be  a  nice  thing  for  all  parties?  " 

"  I   see  nothing   agin   it,  more  belike,  if  they  dinna  mak  up 

their  minds   soon,  they  maun  just  let  it  be.     They're  no   sae 

young.     And  hae  ye  any  ither  body  coming  ?  " 


286  MARGARET 

"  Yes,  there  are  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bankes,  -who  came  unexpect- 
edly last  night  Avithout  an  invitation.  But  we  think  they  will 
not  stay  very  long." 

"  I  aye  like  to  see  ncAv  folks,  hut  I  dinna  think  I'll  get  fond  of 
them.  I  never  heard  ye  say  their  names  afore,  so  I'm  speering 
that  they'll  be  no  just  what  me  and  Alick  will  cotton  to." 

"  O  !  Mrs.  Laird,  don't  be  prejudiced  ;  you  will  find  Mrs. 
Bankes  a  very  chatty,  lively  Avoman  ;  and  Mr.  Bankes  very  gen- 
tlemanly and  quiet.  But  I  must  go  now,  or  I  shall  be  late  for 
breakfast." 

"  Weel,  gang  awa  wi'  ye.  I  ken  by  yer  een  them  new  folks 
is  naething  to  ye,  and  yer  having  yer  fun  o'  me.  But  here,  tak 
a  present  fra'  the  doctor  and  me.  Could  we  gie  ye  what  we 
wish,  it  wad  be  a'  Ave  had,  and  oursels  besides,  ye  bit,  bonny, 
lovesome  thing ! " 

And  Mrs.  Laird  kissed  the  rosy  face  again  and  again,  imtil 
Bear  got  frightfully  jealous,  and  Avalked  olF  sulking,  Avith  his 
tail  betAveen  his  legs. 

Who  Avas  shortly  after  met  by  Basil ;  and  though  both  kncAV 
Lotty  Avas  but  two  steps  behind,  yet  they  took  no  notice  of  her, 
but  talked  to  each  other,  as  if  Basil  Avas  as  much  accustomed  to 
confide  his  thoughts  to  Bear  as  ever  Lotty  was. 

"  So  !  Bear,  little  Lotty  has  oflfended  you,  has  she?  " 

"  I  Avish  you  avouUI  not  call  me  little  Lotty,  Basil ;  it  really  is 
not  proper,"  said  Lotty  from  behind. 

"But  she  is  A-ery  little,  is  she  not,  Bear?"  said  Basil,  going 
on  as  if  not  hearing  her.  "  So  avc  must  put  up  Avith  a  great 
deal  of  nonsense  in  her,  because  she  is  so." 

''  Nonsense,  indeed  !  "  said  the  Aoice  behind. 

"  And  Ave  both  knoAv  that,  tliougli  so  little,  she  is  very  aa'cU- 
meaning  in  all  she  says  and  does.     Eli,  Bear?  " 

"  3Iuch  obliged  for  such  an  opinion,"  from  behind. 
•     "  And  considering  that  she  is  only  nineteen  years  old  to-day, 
Bear,  Ave  must  not  expect  her  to  be  so  Avise  as  Ave  are.      "When 
she  is  about  forty,  perhaps  Ave  may  see  her  grave  and  serious 
like  us." 

"  Ila  !   indeed  !  "  from  behind. 

"  lu  tlie  mean  time,  liear,  supposing  she  should  be  Avhat  Mrs. 
Laird  says,  a  myth,  a  fairy  angel  strayed  aAvay,  and  that  she 
should  suddenly  fly  ofif  and  leave  us.  What  Avould  Lady  Kathc- 
rinc  do?  do  after  her.  Bear,  I  tliiid<,  as  fast  as  she  could  liob- 
bli!.  And  gciitlf  Pru.?  and  Avarni-licarled  Pro.?  Avhy,  I  think 
they  Avould  run  after  her  also,  Avith  a  little  tAvin  girl  in  each  arm. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  287 

Then  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laird,  Mr.  Grey,  and  all  the  Beauvillians, 
flying  the  same  "way." 

"  How  absurd  you  are  this  morning,  Basil !  "  said  the  voice 
beliiud. 

"  But  as  for  Queen  Margaret,  Bear,  little  Lotty  could  not  slip 
away  Avithout  telling  her  where  to  follow.  And  if  Queen  Mar- 
garet remained  behind,  we  should  have  the  little  myth  back 
again.  So  you  and  I,  Bear,  will  ever  keep  by  Queen  Margaret's 
side,  then  shall  we  be  sure  of  seeing  that  little  wild  Lotty." 

"  Not  so  sure  as  you  think,"  was  heard  in  a  very  sulky  voice. 
"  And  I  always  thought  you  so  sensible,  Basil." 

"  We  never  can  be  sensible  when  Lotty  is  near,  can  we.  Bear? 
she  is  so " 

"  Come,  Bear,  come  to  me  ;  you  are  hearing  very  foolish 
things,  and  must  listen  no  longer." 

"■  Ah,  Lotty,  how  strange  of  you  to  be  a  listener  !  Now  it  is 
one  of  the  last  things  I  should  have  supposed  you " 

"  Fray  don't  suppose  any  more  things  about  me,  Lord  Erls- 
court." 

"  O  !  we  are  proud,  are  we  ?  " 

"  That  is  better  than  being  silly." 

"  How  can  one  help  it  on  such  a  day?  I  rose  up  intoxicated 
with  joy,  and  seeing  a  fairy  footfall  on  the  fresh  snow,  I  came 
in  pursuit.  And  I  was  merely  following  your  example,  con- 
fiding my  feelings  to  Bear." 

"  That  reminds  me,  I  really  Avish  to  know,  Basil,  how  you,  of 
whom  I  always  held  so  high  an  opinion,  could  be  so  m.ean  as  to 
listen  to  a  private  conversation?" 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  be  so  mean,  I  assure  you  ;  but  I  thought 
the  first  time  I  fell  into  the  snare,  that  you  were  talking  to  me. 
Upon  hearing  the  name  of  Bear,  I  immediately  departed,  not  to 
intrude  on  a  tke-a-tete." 

"  And  may  I  ask  Avhat  you  did  hear?" 

"  I  agreed  in  one  opinion  very  strongly,  and  whether  to  admire 
you  or  Bear  most  I  did  not  know.  You  said  you  would  not  be 
Flo.,  and  Bear  said  he  would  not  be  Carry,  Ah,  Lotty,  my 
sweet,  dear  Lotty  !  I  did  not  mean  to  vex  you  ;  don't  you  know 
that  I  think " 

"  I  do  not  care  what  you  think !  "  as  passionate  tears  burst 
from  her  eyes. 

"  Then,  upon  my  honor,  I  heard  no  more  than  that,  Lotty, 
and  it  was  quite  accidental ;  and,  much  as  I  was  pleased  with 
the  conceit  of  the  thing,  I  honorably  went  away." 


288  MARGARET 

"  "Why  did  yoii  not  say  so  at  once,  Ba?!!  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  t^ucli  a  -weak,  ibolisli  fellow.  I  enjoyed  seeing 
you  put  out." 

"  Then  you  shall  have  no  such  enjoyment  again." 

"  Sweet  Lotty  !  tell  me  with  your  trutiiful  eyes  that  yon  are 
not  really  offeuded.  I  followed  you  out,  that  I  might  be  the 
first  to  give  you  the  best  wishes  of  the  day,  that  I  might  make 
you  my  little  present,  and  apart  from  the  crowd  of  birthday 
gifts  that  I  know  are  to  be  showered  upon  you.  Will  you 
forgive  me  ?  —  Avill  you  accept  it  ?  " 

"•  If  a  man  chooses  to  be  silly,  why  am  I  to  forgive  him?  I 
have  nothing  to  forgive.  But  Mrs.  Laird  gave  me  my  first  con- 
grutuUitious  and  present." 

'•  Do  let  me  see  it,"  said  Basil,  with  boyish  curiosity  ;  "  if  it 
is  prettier  than  mine,  I'll  send  to  London  for  another." 

They  opened  the  parcel  between  them,  and  discovered  a 
small  scarf  of  exquisite  old  poiut-lace,  Avhieh  looked  as  if  an  in- 
dustrious spider  had  spent  her  whole  life  in  spinning  it. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Lotty,  "  it  is  the  prettiest ;  it  will  be.  Basil,  you 
can  have  nothing  so  lovely  as  this  !  " 

"  Lovely,  indeed  !  It  looks  to  me  like  very  irregular  old 
cobwebs  ;  and  it  is  not  even  washed  yet." 

"  Ah,  Basil !  you  are  just  like  all  gentlemen ;  you  know 
nothing  about  women's  dress.  Mrs.  Laird  must  have  known  I 
was  so  fond  of  old  lace,  and  tliis  will  do  to  throw  over  my  curls 
when  Lady  Kathcrine  comes,  us  she  is  shocked  to  see  me  Avith- 
out  a  cap." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Basil.  "  Why  should 
you  go  mourning  about  the  world,  as  if  you  had  lost  your  first 
love  —  your  hu.-band?     It  is  all  very  well  for  Margaret." 

"  Basil,  I  think  you  don't  quite  know  what  you  are  saying." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right ;  but  don't  Avrap  up  your  curls  ;  ^ 
besides,  the  year  is  out  for  Avhat  people  call  weeds." 

"Wrap  up  my  curls!  —  as  if  they  Avere  parcels,  or  news- 
papers to  be  sent  off!  But  Avhere  is  your  present?  I  am  sure 
you  are  ashamed  of  it,  aud  cannot  show  it  after  Mrs.  Laird's." 

"  Mine  is  (piite  in  a  dilli-rcnt  style  ;  and,  besides,  I  have  taken 
a  great  deal  ^A'  trouble  about  it.  I  wanted  to  match  something, 
and  all  over  Loudon  I  could  find  nothing  in  art  or  nature  to 
equal  them." 

"  Wliose  were  they,  and  what  are  they?" 

"  Tliey  are  two  eyes,  and  in  your  possession,"  said  Basil. 

"  Ah  I    I  dure  say,  now,  you  have  brought  me  a  set  of  but- 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  289 

tons  made  of  cat's-eye  pebbles.  Hideous  !  —  I  -won't  accept 
them  ! " 

"  They  are  not  cat's-eye  pebbles,  and  they  are  not  buttons." 

"  Then  they  are  great  staring  carbuncles." 

"  Which,  you  know,  I  suppose,  would  just  match  your  eyes, 
little  Lotty." 

"  Don't  Basil ;  I  am  nineteen  to-day." 

"  Then,  Lotty,  take  my  present,  and,  with  it,  more  good  wishes 
than  I  care  to  own.  For  Mrs.  Bankes  is  just  drawing  the  cur- 
tains of  her  bed-room  windoAV  —  and  she  will,  perhaps,  tell  tales 
of  us  at  breakfast." 

"  Pray,  why  should  I  not  walk  with  whom  I  please,"  said 
Lotty,  "  without  asking  Mrs.  Bankes?" 

"  Bear  would  not  be  Flo.,  and  you " 

"  Bear,  Bear,  bite  him  !  "  But  he  and  Bear  went  off  together 
in  a  frolicsome  mood. 

Lotty  opened  Basil's  present,  with  some  curiosity  certainly, 
and  much  pleasure  that  he  had  remembered  her. 

She  drew  forth  from  the  pink  cotton  in  which  they  were  envel- 
oped, a  fairy  little  pair  of  gold  manacles.  As  she  turned  them 
round,  her  eyes  Avere  quite  dazzled  with  the  splendor  of  a  single 
diamond  on  each,  beneath  which  was  the  fastening.  So  large, 
so  brilliant,  so  perfect  in  shape  and  water,  almost  alone  in  their 
slight,  simple  setting,  Lotty  held  them  before  her  in  wonder  and 
admiration,  and  as  they  reflected  back  her  own  eyes,  she  blushed 
at  the  remembrance  of  his  words. 

"  My  eyes,  indeed  !  who  could  have  thought  that  Basil  would 
have  been  so  foolish  as  to  spend  such  a  fortune  as  he  must  have 
done  on  these  diamonds,  just  because  of  my  eyes  ?  Shall  I  make 
him  take  them  back  ?  No  ;  I  will  tell  him  he  is  very  silly,  and 
I  will  wear  them  until  there  is  a  Lady  Erlscourt,  and  then  she 

shall  have  them.     They  will  look  lovely  on Ah,  well !   I 

will  say  nothing ! " 


CHAPTER   LXIV. 

It  was  very  tnie  that  Mrs.  Bankes  had,  unasked,  unwished 

for,  thrust  herself  once  more  into  Court  Leigh.     She  was  a  prey 

to  most  ungovernable  curiosity,  as  to  how  matters  were  going 

on  there,  since  the  extraordinary  change  in  all  their  fates  ;  and 

25 


290  MARGARET 

fiudinj^  that  she  was  likely  to  receive  no  positive  invitation,  with 
an  unabashed  coolness,  she  gave  herself  and  her  dear  Frederick 
an  invitation  of  her  own  accord. 

Margaret  was  too  amiable,  and  too  well-bred,  to  turn  her 
from  her  door,  as  it  might  he  said.  And  though,  in  her  gentle, 
grit-  f-s.tricken  heart  she  might  fancy  that  Mrs.  Baukes  showed 
a  great  want  of  delicate  feeling  in  thus  thrusting  her  society 
upon  one  who  must  be  painfully  reminded  of  all  that  occurred 
on  her  former  visit,  that  heart  was  too  well  schooled  in  adversity 
and  sorrow  to  bend  before  a  Mrs.  Baukcs's  annoyances.  So 
there  she  was  settled,  as  she  assured  her  dear  Frederick,  in  con- 
jugal talk  at  night,  just  as  if  she  was  at  home.  "  I  knew  it 
would  be  tlie  case,  the  moment  they  saw  me,  '  out  of  sight  out  of 
mind  ; '  moping  and  pining  over  their  griefs  and  sorrows,  natu- 
rally they  would  think  that  no  one  would  like  to  come  and  be 
witli  them.  However,  they  little  knew  me  —  I  am  always  ready 
to  give  my  advice  anil  company,  where  I  can  see  they  will  be  of 
real  use,  and  I  shall  begin,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  to  look 
about  me,  and  see  what  I  can  do  ;  I  shall  tliink  it  is  only  my 
duty.  Margaret  was  but  a  poor  thing  when  we  were  hero 
before,  but  positively  she  is  a  spectre  now ;  and  what  caps  !  her 
face  looks  like  notliing  in  them,  and  only  that  line  of  hair. 
Now,  my  dear  Fred.,  if  I  am  to  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose 
you,  I  should  make  a  point  of  having  a  cap  of  the  very  first  mil- 
liner, in  style  and  everything  ;  though  you  may  suppose,  Fred., 
that  a  widow's  cap  is  nothing  but  a  bit  of  muslin,  you  are  mis- 
taken. Some  arc  made  of  lawn,  with  broad  sorts  of  streamers 
down  each  side,  very  ugly  to  look  at,  and  always  in  the  way. 
Some  are  made  of — Why,  Fred.!  Fred.!  —  I  declare  he  is 
asleep  ;  I  never  saw  such  a  fellow  to  sleep  ;  I  don't  think  he  can 
be  w.  U,  so  I  must  dose  h'un  to-morrow  ;  that  snore  sounds  very 
bilioii-;.  However,  I  will  go  to  sleep  myself  now,  for  I  have  a 
great  deal  to  do  to-morrow,  looking  about  me.  "NVe  have  got 
Lady  ^Montagu's  room  I  find.  AVell  !  it  is  very  handsome  and 
comfortable,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  Margaret  does  not  neglect  her 
mother  —  some  p('0[)lc  are  so  selfish  in  their  sorrow,  and  it  is 
lucky  the  old  lady  had  gone  home  for  a  while,  as,  perhaps,  they 
•would  have  had  no  room  for  us,  and  that  would  have  been  a 
pretty  kettle  of  fish,  after  all  my  trouble  in  dragging  Fred, 
down.  That  certainly  is  a  bilious  snore."  However,  here  — 
like  Mrs.  Caudh-,  of  ruuch  memory  —  I\Irs.  Bankes  fell  asleep, 
and  was  undrawing  her  curtains,  just  as  Basil  said,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  Lotty's  birthday. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  291 

No  one  appeared  at  breakfast  that  morning  without  a  present 
for  Lotly,  excepting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bankes,  and  apparently  Lord 
Erlscourt.  Young  Harold  brought  a  silver  chain,  with  a  plate 
and  name  on  it,  for  Bear,  who  seemed  more  surprised  thau 
pleased  with  his  necklace.  The  little  Lottina  toddled  in  with 
a  small  riding-whip  of  exquisite  workmanship  and  fairy  pro- 
portions. 

The  two  Ei'le  boys,  not  thinking  that  money  could  buy  aught 
handsome  enough  for  Mrs.  Leigh,  had  endeavored  to  make  their 
presents  valuable  from  the  labor  bestowed  thereon. 

Therefore  one  brought  her  the  model  of  a  steam-engine,  made 
by  himself,  at  infinite  wear  and  tear  of  his  nerves  and  temper 
during  the  process,  that  it  might  indeed  prove  worthy  of  the 
person  on  whom  it  was  bestowed.  And  as  he  had  no  idea  of 
all  this  trouble  being  taken  for  nothing,  he  had  ingeniously  made 
his  steam-engine  the  vehicle  for  holding  different  scents,  all  of 
which,  by  some  extraordinary  contrivance,  came  out  of  the  same 
spout,  yet  remained  pure  and  uncontaminated  by  each  othei*. 
The  other  presented  her  with  a  collection  of  eggs  of  British 
birds,  each  set  of  eggs  in  its  own  nest,  beautifully  arranged  and 
classified,  and  encased  by  himself;  the  collection  was  really 
both  valuable  and  curious.  Besides  which,  they  each  gave  her 
a  young  Pinus  deodarus,  raised  from  seed  by  themselves,  and 
which  were  planted  that  day  with  due  honor  at  High  Leigh, 
thereby  costing  Mrs.  Laird  a  whole  bottle  of  ginger  wine,  and 
an  entire  baking  of  short  bread,  neither  of  which  she  begrudged. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frank's  present  was  jointly  given  —  a  rare  and 
costly  set  of  chess-men,  seemingly  carved  solely  for  the  long 
taper  nails  of  the  Empress  of  China. 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Lotty,  as  she  gazed  on  them,  "  I  shall  always 
lose  now,  when  I  play  Avith  these  beautiful  chess-men.  I  shall 
do  nothing  but  admire  them,  and  wonder  how  they  could  have 
been  so  deftly  carved." 

The  twins  carried  in  each  hand  —  being  themselves  each  car- 
ried in  their  turn  by  a  maid  —  a  bunch  of  violets.  And  Mar- 
garet covered  her  Lotty  with  roses  as  her  present,  having  given 
secret  orders,  months  before,  to  have  some  forced  on  purpose ; 
and  Lotty  looked  like  a  little  Queen-rose  among  them. 

"  It  is  all  very  well.  Lord  Erlscourt,  giving  presents  now  and 
then,"  said  Mrs.  Bankes,  "  but  I  see  you  have  made  no  offering  ; 
neither  have  I  nor  dear  Frederick — we  do  not  quite  approve  of 
such  things,  because  it  leads  to  a  sort  of  jealousy,  you  know  ;  one 
does  not  give  as  handsome  a  present  as  the  other.      Look  now 


292  MARGARET 

at  the  difference  between  Margaret's  roses  and  the  chess-men. 
Lotty  had  only  to  Avait  until  summer,  and  she  might  smother 
herself  in  roses.  But  I  suppose  tlie  Leigh  estates  are  still  much 
embarrassed :  I  conclude  JMargaret  could  alford  no  more." 

"  A  rose,  Mrs.  Bankes,  especially  out  of  season,  has  been 
valued  at  a  much  higher  price  than  you  seem  to  think  its  due." 

"  Ah  !  yes,  some  of  those  new  roses  ;  for  instance,  what  sums 
were  paid  for  Gcant  de  Bataille." 

"  And  don't  you  remember  that  story  of  '  Beauty  and  the 
Beast '?  there,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  rose  is  valued  at  a  life." 

"  You  joke,  my  lord  ;  but  what  is  Lotty  showing  now  ?  Brace- 
lets !  upon  my  word,  those  really  now  seem  a  pretty  little  pres- 
ent ;  very  tasty  and  fashionable.  Do  let  me  look  at  them. 
Jupiter  Ammon !  my  dear,  what  diamonds !  Fred.,  Fred., 
come  here ;  did  you  ever !  Heavens !  child,  they  are  worth 
millions  of  money !  Where  did  you  get  them  ?  Who  gave 
them  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  found  them  this  morning." 

"Found  them,  my  dear!  Are  you  sure  they  are  for  you? 
Had  you  no  note  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  they  Avere  in  a  parcel  directed  to  me,  and  this  note 
inside." 

"  Let  me  see  !  let  me  see  !  "  exclaimed  Flo. 

TO  lottt's  eyes. 

I've  sought  in  vain  to  find  a  gem 

To  match  those  radiant  ones  of  thine. 
Ah  !  Lotty,  Avho  that  looks  on  them, 

Will  deign  to  cast  one  glance  on  mine  ? 

'Tis  as  the  glowworm's  feeble  light 

To  yon  bright  stars  that  gem  the  skies. 

Lotty,  my  life  is  as  the  night ; 

Lighten  it,  starlike,  with  thine  eyes. 

"Upon  my  word,  pretty  thoughts  indeed.  'Tis  almost  as  good 
as  an  offer  of  marriage  ;  and  I  am  sure  only  a  prince  of  the 
blood  could  aflbrd  such  a  present.     You  are  lucky  !  my  dear." 

"  If  tlic  donor  appears  and  declares  that  he  means  what  ho 
says,  ought  Mrs.  Leigh  to  accept  his  offer?"  asked  Loi'd  Fris- 
co art. 

"  Of  course  she  ought.  She  may  bo  sure  he  must  be  mon- 
strous rich  1111(1  generous,"  answered  INIrs.  Bankes. 

'*  The  donor  shall  know  my  mind  when  he  wishes  it,  and  I 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  293 

shall  not  have  much  trouble  in  telling  him  he  is  a  very  great 
goose  for  his  pains."  Thus  savagely  growled  the  little  Bear, 
w^ith  angry,  sparkling  eyes,  and  red-rose  cheeks. 

Mrs.  Bankes's  retort  was  smothered  by  the  entrance  of  Mr. 
Grey,  the  bearer  of  more  presents.  An  antique  brooch  from 
Lady  Katherine,  with  a  rare  pearl  in  the  centre,  that  lay  con- 
scious and  blushing  at  its  own  beauty  ;  an  embroidered  sachet  de 
mouchoirs  from  Pru.,  the  work  of  her  own  diligent  fingers ;  and 

from  Mr.  Grey  himself  some  books  on  botany. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"Wlien  all  the  excitement  regarding  Lotty's  presents  had  some- 
what subsided,  the  ever-busy  Florence,  looking  round  to  see  in 
what  manner  she  could  employ  herself  with  satisfaction,  was 
delighted  to  catch  sight  of  Mr.  Grey,  drawing  Lady  Leigh  con- 
fidentially aside.  Huramiug  an  indifferent  sort  of  nothing-may- 
care  tune,  she  placed  herself,  as  by  chance,  sufficiently  close 
to  hear  the  interesting  communication  ;  and,  we  presume,  could 
not  but  be  edified  thereby. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Lady  Leigh,  and  trust  my 
wishes  may  not  have  proved  in  this  instance  as  running  counter 
to  my  better  judgment." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  the  listener  to  herself. 

"I  am  sure  of  the  contrary,  John,"  said  Lady  Leigh,  "  and 
am  glad  to  do  as  you  wish,  if  it  were  only  to  please  myself." 

"My  good  gi-acious  !  Avho  would  have  thought  it?"  said  the 
listener,  almost  aloud,  in  her  amazement. 

"  They  have  suffered  very  severely,  through  all  the  winter 
months,  for  want  of  regular  employment,  and,  really,  with  na- 
tures like  the  Jones's,  so  prone  to  evil,  starvation  might  lead 
them  to  crime." 

"  Law  !  parish  stuff!  "  said  the  disappointed  hearer. 

"  I  did  not  think  it  right  to  bind  them  down  to  any  promise, 
but  only  said  they  should  have  constant  Avoi'k  for  a  time  ;  I  think 
by  this  means  we  shall  make  their  condition  so  very  much  better 
that  they  will  experience  the  virtue  of  gratitude  at  least ;  and  if 
they  work,  they  cannot  be  in  mischief.  But  I  have  one  thing  to 
propose,  Lady  Leigh,  as  binding  them  yet  more  strongly  to  you." 

"What  is  that,  John?"" 

"  If  you  would  go  sometimes  and  visit  the  new  cottage  they 
are  to  build,  as  if  interested  in  its  erection,  and  by  this  means 
get  into  conversation  with  them,  I  think,  after  a  time,  you 
might  propose  giving  half  the  money  they  will  earn  weekly,  to 
their  wives." 

25* 


294  MARGARET 

"  Bless  the  man  !  "  said  the  listener  ;  "  docs  he  think  to  make 
Ladv  Lei;i;h  entice  common  masons  to  do  their  duty,  and  to  talk 
to  them  ?  " 

"  Willinirly,  dear  John  !  I  understand  exactly  what  you 
mean,"  said  Lady  Leigh. 

"  Dear  John  !  I  suppose  then  they  must  be  engaged.  I  shall 
go  and  question  Lotty  when  they  finish." 

"  It  seems  to  me  likely,  that  if  you  take  an  interest  in  these 
unhappy  men  and  their  families,  they  will  experience  a  new  and 
deliglitful  feeling.  They  have  been  so  long  the  objects  of  con- 
tempt and  opprobrium,  kindness,  or,  at  all  events,  interest  in 
them,  will  awaken  better  feelings." 

"  And  even  supposing  your  good  thought  does  not  succeed, 
John,  we  shall  at  least  know  that  we  drove  them  by  no  unkind- 
ness  to  greater  evil." 

"  True.  To-morrow,  I  believe,  I  am  to  expect  you  at  the 
school.  I  suppose,  in  rewarding  the  children  after  the  exam- 
ination, xinifbrm  propriety  of  conduct  is  to  have  greater  praise 
tlian  any  individual  quantity  of  learning  or  assiduity.  I  find 
the  little  things  are  much  more  particular  and  amiable  in  their 
manners  to  each  other,  since  you  gave  Amy  Wilcox,  that  pale, 
meek  child,  the  first  prize  for  attention  to  her  little  sister,  and 
that  great  dunce,  Joseph  Ewins,  for  his  care  of  his  p-andmother. 
And  tliey  seem  to  know  that  I  keep  a  pretty  keen  lookout  after 
all  their  delinquencies." 

"They  have  not  to  learn  those  long  Scripture  lessons  by  heart 
now,  which  is  a  very  good  thing,"  said  Lady  Leigh.  "  I  could 
not  bear  to  hear  those  holy  words  gabbled  and  stumbled  over, 
like  a  common  lesson." 

"  I  think  it  has  had  a  good  effect  not  doing  so  ;  they  seem 
much  more  interested  in  the  Bible  now,  and  really  try  lo  under- 
stand it,  instead  of  only  repeating  the  Avords  like  empty-headed 
parrots." 

"  Do  you  think  that  poor  girl  Avill  recover,  down  at  Burn- 
leigh  ?  " 

"A  great  and  horrible  weight  seems  taken  off  her  mind.  Her 
parents  naturally  were  very  much  shocked  and  disgusted,  that 
a  (laughter  of  tlieirs  shoultl  have  thus  disgraced  herself;  and  I, 
by  no  means,  wish  them  to  tliiiik  or  act  otherwise.  Her  sin  is 
far  too  conuuon  and  uncared-for,  in  this  country,  for  us  to  deal 
otherwise  than  strongly  by  it.  Nevertheless,  under  the  heavy 
displeasure  of  her  parents,  the  unfeeling  conduct  of  her  sister, 
whatever  promptings  of  remorse  and  contrition  she  had,  were 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  295 

being  smothered.  Miss  Rachel  kickily  found  the  way  into  that 
sin-laden  heart,  and  once  removed  from  home  and  country,  with 
the  power  to  retrieve  her  good  name,  Ave  may  hope  to  '  save  this 
soul  alive.'  " 

"  Such  a  hope  is  worth  any  trial.  God  bestows  on  us  daily 
opportunities  of  repentance  and  amendment.  It  is  fit  we  do  the 
same  by  our  erring  fellow-mortals,"  answered  the  gentle  Mar- 
garet. 

And  now  there  flushed  over  John  Grey's  face  a  glow  so  pecu- 
liar and  satisfactory,  that  Flo.  became  more  intent  than  ever. 

"  My  happy  day  is  fixed,"  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Margaret,  half  smiling,  half  murmuring, 
"  Easter-Tuesday,  dear  John  ;  you  will  now  be  identified  with 
us,  both  in  Aveal  and  Avoe." 

"  I  must  have  been  so  Avithout  this  happiness.  Believe  me, 
owing  this  blessing  as  I  do,  solely  to  you,  —  for  your  sacred 
command,  'Be  my  mother's  son,' pointed  out  that  my  inclination 
was  scarcely  more  strong  than  my  duty,  —  the  home,  the  Avorld, 
the  love,  the  Avelfare  of  the  Leighs,  must  ever  have  been  mine." 

"My  goodness  me!  Avhere  is  Lotty?"  and  Mrs.  Bankes,  in 
lier  hurry  to  find  her,  left  the  rest  of  this  interesting  conversa- 
tion to  be  heard  only  by  the  ears  intended  for  it. 

"  Lotty,  Lotty  !  Avhat  is  this  I  hear?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  Flo.,  as  you  may  have  heard  what  I  have 
not." 

"  O  !  you  may  look  as  demure  as  you  like,"  continued  Mrs. 
Bankes,  Avinking  violently.  "  None  so  deaf  as  those  who  Avon't 
hear." 

"  Not  having  heard  yet,  I  presume  you  have  no  reference  to 
me,"  answered  Lotty. 

"  Tlien,  my  dear,  since  you  are  so  discreet,  alloAv  me  to  ask 
how  long  Mr.  Grey  has  been  such  a  prodigious  favorite  here  ?  " 

"  Ever  since  he  came,  Flo." 

"  Dear  me  !  Well,  I  must  say,  I  should  not  have  thought  it. 
Margaret  seemed  to  me  as  if  she  Avould  have  been  constant  for 
two  years  at  least.  Noav  Avith  you,  my  dear  Lotty,  if  you  had 
married  the  next  month,  I  should  have  thought  it  no  more  than 
your  duty." 

"  What  a  pity  it  is  I  can  get  no  one  to  have  me  ! " 

"  O,  but  you  may,  my  dear  —  don't  despair  ;  and  you  with 
such  a  good  jointure,  too.     There  is  a  cousin  of  mine " 

"What!  the  red-haired  one  —  no,  I  thank  you;  I'll  endure 
my  lonely  state  as  well  as  I  can,  rather  than  that." 


296  MARGARET 

Well,  my  dear,  that  is  according  to  taste.  Everybody  says 
he  is  very  like  Fred.  ;  and  Avhon  one  comes  to  tliink  what  you 
endured  from  thai  dark,  <rloomy  man  —  ah  !  my  dear,  they  say 
such  things  of  him  " 

"  Then  they  who  say,  seem  indifferent  to  truth." 

"  Come,  Lottv,  don't  he  angry  Avith  your  ohl  schoolfellow  and 
friend.  I  know  he  behaved  a  cry  ill  to  you  ;  come,  now,  tell  me 
all  about  it." 

"  You  seem  better  informed  than  I  am." 

'"  Then,  my  dear,  I'll  just  tell  you  all  I  heard,  and  you  Avill  be 
able  to  assure  me  if  it's  true." 

"  You  had  better  make  no  remarks  upon  Philip  Leigh  before 
Bear,  unless  they  are  strictly  true.  Come  here.  Bear.  What  do 
you  do  when  people  tell  fibs  ?  " 

Bear  made  such  an  exhibition  of  frantic  rage  that  Mrs.  Bankes 
fled  in  a  panic. 

The  banquet,  as  Mrs.  Laird  persisted  in  calling  it,  was  superb, 
^largaret  did  not  appear  in  such  large  parties  at  the  head  of  her 
table,  but  was  seated  at  the  side,  by  her  dear  Lotty.  Lady  Kathe- 
riue  presided,  with  John  Grey  as  vice-pi'esident.  The  gentle 
Pru.  was  undergoing  a  course  of  teasing  from  the  Erie  boys,  on 
the  subject  of  love  and  lovers,  and  she  must  not  eat  that,  nor 
partake  of  the  other,  or  touch  anything  inflammable,  which 
amused  Mrs.  Bankes  greatly  ;  and  she  said  to  herself,  "  Poor 
old  thing !  I  should  not  wonder  but  she  thinks  them  in  ear- 
nest." 

John,  however,  guarded  his  Pru.  so  well,  she  became  quite 
merry  and  lively,  with  all  their  fun. 

So  Mrs.  Bankes  again  said  to  herself,  — 

"  Bless  the  old  thing  !  She  will  be  thinking  that  man  in  love 
with  her." 

The  children  appeared  Avith  the  fruit  before  the  ladies  had 
retircfl.  The  beautiful  young  Harold  drew  towards  his  mother, 
with  all  his  loving  heart  in  his  eyes ;  while  the  little  rosy, 
blooming  Lottina  made  such  a  noise  on  her  godmother's  knee, 
they  were  very  nearly  both  being  sent  to  b('<l.  The  little  quiet 
twins  looked  on  with  awe  and  wonder  at  this  noise  ;  their  fair 
little  faces,  and  upright,  stiff  little  figures,  making  them  appear 
as  miniatures  of  Pru.  and  Pro.  But  Mr.  Frank  lost  himself  in 
a  sea  of  a<lmirati()n  at  their  loveliness;  and  all  the  IV-auvillians 
declared,  tiiough  tliey  were  uidikc  "  th^  gii'l/'  the  original  girl, 
they  were  quite  gems  of  girls. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  297 

After  dinner,  Mrs.  Bankes  having  been  conjecturing  how  an 
ordinary  sort  of  man,  Avhose  wig  got  pushed  all  on  one  side 
from  excitement,  had  been  admitted,  together  with  his  wife, 
who  spoke  the  broadest  Scotch,  and  Avas  always  speaking  too, 
seated  herself  beside  the  offending  person,  to  find  out  what  she 
could  about  her. 

"  That  is  a  very  handsome  dress,  ma'am,"  began  Mrs.  Bankes. 

"  Yer  welcome  to  admire  it,"  said  Mrs.  Laird,  getting  all  her 
armor  ready.  She  had  seen  quite  enough  of  Mrs.  Bankes  at 
dinner  to  determine  how  to  act. 

"  So  you  know  me.  I  am  not  so  fortunate  as  to  surmise  Avho 
you  are." 

"  I  am  Mistress  Laird,  the  doctor's  wife,  and  we  live  at  High 
Leigh  ;  and  I  was  born  a  Macullam  ;  and  I  bought  my  dress  in 
Glasgaw  ;  and  the  price  of  it,  and  the  length  on  it,  is  down  i' 
the  bill." 

"  Really,  Mrs.  Laird,  you  must  not  suppose  that  I  am  of  a 
prying,  meddling  disposition.  No  one  was  ever  so  free  from 
such  vices." 

"  Mistress  Bankes,  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

"I  hope  you  will  allow  me  to' admire  your  cap,  without 
thinking  I  Avish  to  know  all  the  particulars  thereof." 

Not  that  Mrs.  Bankes  really  admired  either  cap  or  dress,  for 
the  latter  was  of  a  striking  tartan,  and,  being  satin  in  texture, 
shone  out  with  unblushing  glory  ;  while  the  lace  cap  might  have 
been  pretty,  had  it  not  been  favored  with  bows  of  a  peculiar 
make,  size,  and  color,  that  gave  Mrs.  Laird's  marked  Scotch 
features  the  appearance  of  being  newly  done  up  to  sit  for  a  sign- 
board of  blessed  Queen  Anne.  But  she  thought  admiration  a 
notable  way  of  learning  a  person's  weak  points. 

"  I  hae  no  objection,  ma'am,  to  tell  ye  that  the  cap  was  a 
present  from  one  o'  Mrs.  Leigh's  uncles,  so  I  am  no  like  to  ken 
the  price." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  him?  " 

"  Ay,  that's  it ;  that  maks  a'  the  differ,  as  the  doctor  says, 
when  a  patient's  mending  or  worsiug." 

"  O  !  there  is  a  mystery  about  it,  is  there?" 

"  May  be  there  is,  and  may  be  there  isn't." 

"  Are  you  the  lady  who  was  kind  to  Mrs.  Leigh,  when  her 
brute  of  a  husband  behaved  so  ill  to  her  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  save  us  !  —  and  is  that  the  way  to  speak  o'  a  puir 
dead  mon,  who  ne'er  hurted  ye  ?  Eh,  Mistress  Bankes  !  div  ye 
no  fear  a  curse  on  ye  ? " 


298  MARGARET 

"  I  am  not  at  all  pupcrstitious,  I  can  assure  you.  I  ahvajs 
speak  of  people  as  I  iiiid  them." 

"•  Tlicn  it'  you  was  to  the  tore,  there's  nae  need  for  me  to  tell 
ma  news." 

''  But  if  you  have  any  news,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  it, 
for  I  am  so  much  interested  about  dear  little  Lotty,  that,  though 
I  never  make  or  meddle  in  other  people's  matters,  it  is  a  point 
with  me  to  enter  into  all  her  concerns." 

"  Very  ceevil,  I  am  sure.  Ye  hae  nae  family  o'  yer  OAvn,  may 
be?" 

"  No  ;  but  why  ask  that  ?  " 

"  When  a  body  has  naething  to  entertain  them  at  hamc,  they 
are  aye  rinning  after  ither  folks'  matters.  I  find  it  mysel'  ;  but 
then,  ye  see,  I  hae  a  fine,  sensible  mon  to  ma  husband,  and 
your  little  mon,  he  seems  aye  very  sweet  o'  the  platter  and  jug; 
but  I  am  misdoubting  ye  are  his  master." 

Pocketing  the  insult  to  her  dear  Fred.,  on  account  of  the 
implied  compliment  to  her  OAvn  sense,  Mrs.  Bankes  got  interested 
in  a  further  debate. 

"  And  about  Philip  Leigh?" 

"  AVhat  aboun  a  dead  man?" 

"  I  have  heard  it  said  that  he  behaved  very  ill  indeed  to  his 
wife." 

"•  Ech  me,  what  ouo  hears  nooadays  !  " 

"Then  it's  not  true?" 

"  Ilae  ye  axed  Mrs.  Leigli?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  ;  but  she  won't  say  anything." 

"  Aud  she  wuuua  tell  ye  nuething?" 

"  No,  not  a  word,  though  I  am  dying  of  curiosity,  and  shall 
be  most  thankful  to  you  if  you  will  give  me  every  information  in 
your  power." 

"  What  for,  Mistress  Bankes?" 

"  0  !  for  no  particular  reason.  I  shall,  of  course,  tcll*no  one  ; 
but,  having  my  own  suspicions,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  find  I  was 
correct." 

"  And  what  do  ye  ca'  unkind?  " 

"  Why,  scolding  her.  I  liave  heard  he  beat  her,  and  gambled 
away  his  money,  aud  all  sorts  of  tilings." 

"  Wee),  Mistress  Bankes,  they  lived  at  our  house  ganging  on 
for  sax  weeks,  and  during  a'  that  time  lie  never  said  a  cross 
word  till  her;  Ijiit  he  loved  (lie  air  she  stood  in,  the  chair  she 
ent  in,  the  cup  she  touched,  and  he  died  in  her  arms  at  last,  say- 
ing he  was  happy  to  gang  that  way." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  299 

*'  Dear,  how  odd  !  I  concluded  it  was  so  different.  But  here 
are  the  gentlemen.  Are  you  not  shocked,  Mrs.  Laird,  to  see 
how  dreadfully  Lady  Leigh  flirts  with  Mr.  Grey  ?  " 

"  What  div  ye  think  'ill  come  on  it?  " 

"  I  suppose  she'll  many  him ;  and  her  husband,  that  she 
idolized  so,  hardly  dead  a  year." 

"  I  hae  reason  to  think  she  wunna." 

""WTiy,  why?  have  you  seen  or  heard  anything?" 

*'  Ay ;  I  hae  seen  him  walking  with  Miss  Leigh,  and  I  hae 
heard  Lady  Katherine  give  them  the  blessing  as  man  and  wife." 

"  O,  nonsense  !  I'll  never  believe  it !  You  are  mistaken  ! 
You  dou't  know  what  I  overheard  this  morning.  Lady  Leigh 
called  him  '  dear  John  '  —  she  spoke  about  a  cottage  —  and  what 
was  that  but  love  in  a  cottag-e  ?  " 

"  Weel,  weel ;  hae  it  yer  ain  way.  May  be  ye'll  lend  me  yer 
little  mou  to  run  awa'  wi'  next.  Never  fear,  but  ye  shall  hae 
him  back,  Avrapped  in  a  cambric  handkercher." 

Mrs.  Bankes  left  Mrs.  Laird's  side,  with  an  uncomfortable 
feeling  that  she  had  not  had  the  last  Avord. 

"  Very  strange  woman  that,  my  dear  Lotty.  I  am  surprised 
Margaret  asked  her  to  meet  such  company." 

"  Margaret  did  not  ask  her  —  I  did." 

"  I  don't  think,  then,  my  dear,  you  acted  with  the  judgment 
I  really  thought  you  possessed,  under  all  your  childish  ways. 
Besides  being  very  much  out  of  place  in  her  outre  dress  and  cap, 
she  talks  such  broad  Scotch,  and  has  no  idea  of  right  and  wrong. 
I  convicted  her  in  such  a  fib " 

"  A  fib  I  "  said  Lotty. 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  She  told  me  just  as  coolly  as  if  I  was  a  bit 
of  cucumber  and  she  the  vinegar,  that  Mr.  Grey  was  going  to 
be  married  to  Miss  Leigh.  God  bless  the  man  that  gets  her ! 
Bay  I,  for  she  is  the  most  regular  old  maid  I  ever  saw.  Little 
did  Mrs.  Laird  know  what  I  overheard  this  morning  between 
Mr.  Grey  and  Margaret.  Quite  by  accident,  I  heard  them  set- 
tling their  plans,  and  she  called  him  '  my  John.'  I  must  say  I 
never  Avould  have  believed  it  of  Margaret  —  never  !  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  need  believe  it  now,  Flo." 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  you  are  an  innocent,  well-meaning  girl,  and 
without  saying  much,  I  dare  say  you  feel  a  great  deal.  And  I 
am  certain  you  would  never  pay  your  husband  so  bad  a  compli- 
ment as  to  be  ready  to  jump  down  the  throat  of  the  first  man 
that  offered." 

"  I  should  say  it  was  a  compliment  to  my  first  husband,  and 
showed  I  was  anxious  to  be  as  happy  again  as  he  made  me." 


300  MARGARET 

"  Pooh,  child !  you  must  not  joke  on  such  serious  subjects. 
You  are  under  my  care  and  ailvice,  and  well  it  is  for  you  that 
you  are  ;  for  with  this  frightful  example  of  Margaret's  before 
you,  -with  all  her  ridiculous  show  —  liere  are  the  gentlemen,  so 
no  more.  My  gracious  !  how  red  Fred,  is  in  the  face  —  I  hope 
he  has  not  been  takinij  too  much  wine.  How  handsome  Lord 
Erlscourt  is  !  —  really  —  I  suppose  that's  what  makes  Fred,  look 
rather,  that  is,  not  quite  so  handsome  as  usual.  "What  a  beauti- 
ful smile  he  has  !  Ah,  my  dear  !  if  Margaret  had  now  only  fallen 
in  love  with  him,  instead  of  that  humdrum  clergyman,  we  must 
have  made  allowances  for  her.  He  bends  over  her  chair  so 
gracefully." 

"  The  humdrum " 

"  No,  you  stupid  thing  !  and  she  has  quite  brightened  up  with 
some  lively  remark  he  has  made.  Ah !  Margaret,  too  late 
you'll  discover  what  a  goose  you  have  been.  I  see  such  a  dis- 
tressing: state  of  things  for  the  future." 

"  '  Let  not  ills  that  never  hap,  chiefly  make  thee  wretched,' 
saith  Tupper." 

"  My  dear,  nonsense  with  your  Tupper  !  I  never  make  nor  — 
Ah  !  here  is  Lord  Erlscourt  looking  my  Avay ;  yes,  he  is  coming 
towards  us  ;  so,  Lotty,  dear,  if  you  have  anything  to  say  to  any 
one,  pray  don't  think  it  necessary  to  remain  and  entertain  me." 

"  I  can  assure  you,  Flo.,  the  eutcrtaiumeut  is  all  on  the  other 
side." 

"  "Well,  people  do  say  I  am  the  most  agreeable  woman  they 
ever  met,  and  1  am  sure  I  don't  know  why  it  is  so,  for  I  never 
entertain  company  at  other  people's  expense  —  but  go,  my  dear, 
here  he  is." 

Mi-s.  Bankcs  was  thinking  so  much  of  how  she  should  bring 
to  bear  the  lull  battery  of  all  her  agreeable  powers  upon  Lord 
Erlscourt,  that  she  did  not  perceive  his  look  of  disappointment 
at  Lotty's  retreat.  How  he  shook  his  head  deprecatingly  at  her, 
and  how  Lotty  laughed  back  a  laugh  of  spitel'ul  amusement,  at 
his  being  caught  in  the  clutches  of  Mrs.  Bankes  !  Determining 
to  cut  it  as  short  as  possible,  he  set  himself  to  submit  Avith  as 
good  a  grace  as  he  could. 

"  Well,  my  Lord,  1  am  so  delighted  you  have  come,  because 
I  feel  a  little  out  of  place  here,  and  you  being  in  the  same  situa- 
tion, we  can  comfort  each  other." 

"  I  feel  remarkably  hapjjy,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Bankes,  and  do 
not  feel  at  all  as  if  I  was  in  the  way." 

"  Of  course,  my  lord,  I  do  not  mean  in  the  way,  but  they  are 


AND  HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  301 

all  so  nearly  related  and  connected  with  each  other,  that  we  seem 
the  only  two  strangers." 

"  I  could  not  have  supposed  a  person  so  amiable  as  Mrs. 
Bankes,  had  forgotten  the  existence  of  Mr.  Bankes." 

"  O  !  of  course  I  included  Fred.  ;  but  you  see  there  is  that 
Mr.  Grey  going  to  become  one  of  the  family." 

"  True." 

"  O  !  then  you  have  been  told  ;  otherwise  I  was  going  to  men- 
tion to  you  a  little  circumstance  I  heard  this  morning  quite  by 
accident.  They  were  talking  in  the  window,  and  she  called  him 
her  beloved  John,  and  they  talked  about  settlements." 

"  They  seem  to  have  had  an  eye  to  business  as  well  as  love, 
Mrs.  Bankes." 

"  Ah  !  yes,  that  is  generally  the  case  with  widows." 

"  Widows  !  "  exclaimed  Lord  Erlscourt. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  are  we  not  talking  of  Lady  Leigh  and  Mr. 
Grey?" 

"  0  !  we  are,  are  we?  have  you  congratulated  her  yet?  I 
think  she  would  only  consider  it  kind  of  an  old  schoolfellow ; 
and  if  you  will  excuse  me  while  you  perform  this  friendly  matter, 
I  wish  to  tell  Mrs.  Leigh  that  I  think  Dr.  Laird  must  have  given 
her  those  bracelets." 

"  I  dare  say  he  did,  and  they  are  nothing  but  Scotch  diamonds 
after  all." 

"  Paste,  I  should  say,  Mrs.  Banks." 

"  No  doubt,  just  like  a  doctor's  taste." 

"Basil,  where  have  you  sent  Mrs.  Bankes?"  said  Lotty,  as 
he  passed  on  to  her. 

"  I  know  where  I  should  like  to  send  her,"  said  Basil ;  "  but 
at  present  I  have  despatched  her  to  cougi-atulate  Margaret  upon 
her  intended  nuptials  with  Mr.  Grey." 

"  O  Basil !  how  could  you  be  so  mischievous?  " 

"  Not  at  all ;  Margaret's  answer  will  rebuke  her  more  than 
anything  we  can  say.  Ha !  Lotty,  look,  she  has  begun ;  see 
Margaret's  face,  first  astonishment,  then  calm,  dignified  con- 
tempt. With  what  queenlike  grace  she  rises  and  touches  John 
Grey's  arm  !    I  will  stake  the  next  kiss  you  give  me,  that " 

"  Don't  stake  what  you  have  not,  BasU." 

"  That  Margaret  has  not  answered  her  a  word,  but  has  taken 
John  Grey  up  to  introduce  him,  and  said,  '  Mrs.  Bankes  wishes 
to  offer  you  her  congratulations  on  your  intended  marriage  with 
Miss  Leigh.'  Don't  you  perceive  how  mortified  she  looks, 
Lotty?" 

26 


302  MARGARET 

"  Don't  you  think  Lord  Erlscourt  is  very  rude  to  me,  Mrs. 
Laird  ? "  said  Lotty,  falling  back  to  the  shelter  of  the  brilliant 
plaid  satin  dress. 

'"  To  luik  at  his  con,  my  bairn,  I  see  pratty  much  what  a'  on 
us  feel,  and  that's  nae  rudeness." 

"  Quite  true,  Mrs.  Laird  ;  I  never  can  persuade  Lotty  that  it 
is  all  love  on  my  part,"  said  Lord  Erlscourt. 

Mrs.  Laird  turned  upon  him  the  full  battery  of  her  shrewd 
Scotch  eyes ;  tlien,  as  if  the  scrutiny  was  satisfactory,  she 
placed  her  hand  fondly  on  Lotty,  saying  ''  May  ye  niver  hae 
mair  rudeness  than  my  laird's,  my  bairu." 

"  If  you  take  his  side,  I  leave  you,"  answered  Lotty,  crossing 
over  to  Rachel  Clare. 

"  AVeel,  my  laird,  I  am  thinking,  like  us  a',  yer  aye  fond  of 
that  bonny  bairn." 

"'Fond'  is  not  quite  the  proper  expression  for  me,  Mrs. 
Laird.  Some  of  these  days  I'll  prove  my  real  opinion  of  her. 
But,  alas  !  Mrs.  Bankes  seems  returning." 

"  Ech  !  my  word,  what  a  daft  body  thou  is." 

*'  You  and  my  brothers  agree." 

"Aye,  but  I  am  glad  I'm  in  sich  company.  Them's  twa 
grand  boys,  and  I'll  gang  and  hae  a  clack  wi'  cm,  about  yon 
fulish  body,  just  to  ease  my  mind." 

'•  IMay  I  come  some  morning,  and  sit  Avith  you?  Believe  me 
actuated  by  no  unworthy  mulive,  if  I  question  you  about  poor 
Philip  Leigh." 

"  Deed  wunnot  I.  The  doctor  and  me  will  be  aye  glad  to  let 
on  till  a  friend  abuue  him,  and  a'  that  little  angel  thing  suffered. 
For  she  wuU  never  tell,  and  naebody  kens  a'  I  kens  about  the 
bonny  thing.  She's  joost  made  of  the  Almiglity's  best  handy- 
work.      But  here's  tlioii  daft  body." 

"  My  lord,  huw  could  you "  began  Mrs.  Bankes. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  —  pray  excuse  me  —  Lady  Leigh  calls 
me,"  answered  Basil,  hastily  departing. 

"  Mrs.  Laird,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  to  deceive 
me  thus,"  said  Flo.  to  her. 

"TMy  guid  woman,  shame  and  Janet  Laird  never  sat  together 
yet.  Tuk  yer  ain  blame  on  yer  ain  head,  or  may  he's  I'll  get 
my  doctor  to  gie  ye  his  mind." 

"  Good  woman,  indeed  !  " 

"  I  ley  I  \iu\y  be  I  mistook  there  ;  "  and  Mrs.  Laird  moved  off, 
grimly  smiling  at  her  own  wit. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  303 


CHAPTER    LXV. 

"  I  "sviSH,  Basil,"  said  Lotty,  as  she  met  him,  -when  returning 
on  the  morrow  from  her  morning's  walk,  "  you  would  take  back 
those  diamonds  ;  they  ought  to  be  heirlooms,  or  something  of 
that  sort," 

"So  I  mean  them  to  be,"  said  Basil ;  "  but  don't  plume  your- 
self upon  thinking  they  are  diamonds  —  Mrs.  Bankes  says  they 
are  paste." 

"  She  is  very  angry  with  me  about  John  Grey,  and  said  I  wil- 
fidly  deceived  her,  Basil ;  and  that  you  also  are  a  victim  to  my 
mischievous  temper." 

"  I  am  a  victim  to  you,  Lotty,  but  not  in  that  way." 

"  I  am  not  in  any  humor  for  nonsense,  Basil,  so  pray  talk 
common  sense.  One  would  suppose  you  were  one  of  the  boys. 
And  how  happens  it  that  you  have  taken  such  a  restless  turn? 
1  never  knew  you  take  these  early  Avalks  before." 

"  That  shows  how  little  you  are  interested  in  my  movements 
—  for  I  always  take  early  walks  ;  but  lately  you  seem  continu- 
ally to  have  stumbled  on  my  path." 

"  Why  do  you  not  ask  the  servants  which  road  I  take?  " 

"  So  I  do,  Lotty." 

"  Then,  Basil,  you  follow  me  on  purpose." 

"  Without  any  doubt.     Do  you  dislike  my  company?" 

"  No,  not  at  all ;  but  you  should  be  Basil,  not  a " 

"  Not  a  fool,  Lotty." 

"  I  did  not  say  so ;  but,  come  now,  will  you  take  those 
bracelets  back  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not." 

"  Then  I  will  wear  them  on  one  condition,  that  when  there  is 
a  young  Lady  Erlscourt,  I  may  present  them  to  her." 

"  That  depends  upon  what  sort  of  arm  she  has.  She  may 
weigh  twenty  stone,  Lotty." 

_  "  That  you  may  be  certain  she  will  not  do,  Basil ;  but  Avhy 
did  you  have  them  made  so  small  ?  " 

"  To  fit  this  tiny  wrist,"  answered  Basil,  taking  her  hand  in  his. 

"  It  is  very  easy  to  have  more  links  added,  if  she  should 
weigh  twenty  stone,"  said  Lotty,  withdrawing  it. 

"I  agree  with  you,  that  she  will  not  weigh  so  much  —  more 
likely  twenty  pounds  ;  so  I  close  with  your  proposal." 


804  MARGARET 

"  Thank  you,  Ba?il ;  now  I  shall  -wear  them  in  peace  and 
comfort,  just  as  if  they  were  my  own." 

"  Long  may  you  continue  to  think  they  are  your  own,  Lotty." 

"  Nay,  Basil,  not  so.  I  do  not  know  of  any  one  who  ought 
to  have  a  perfect  wife  so  much  as  you." 

"  I  quite  agree,  Lotty.  But  will  a  perfect  wife,  such  as 
I  want,  have  me?  " 

"Ah,  Basil,  you  are,  indeed,  very  strange:  knowing  as  you 
must  know  what  I  know,  how  can  you  be  so  ambiguous  and 
foolish  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Bear,  come  here,  and  resolve  me  of  this  sentence  : 
'  knowing  as  you  must  know  what  I  know,'  and  I  asked  a 
straight Ibrward  question,  Bear  ;  who  is  most  ambiguous,  old 
fellow  ?  " 

"  Then,  Basil,  Margaret.  Does  she  not  look  almost  like  her 
old  self?  Now  that  poor  Harold's  name  is  cleared,  thanks  to 
your  exertions,  she  seems  to  have  given  him  calmly  up  to  God, 
and  is  only  bent  on  fultilling  his  earthly  duties." 

"  Lotty,  Margaret  has  realized  every  hope  I  had  entertained 
of  her  character.  And,  perhaps,  had  she  not  had  these  trials, 
we  should  not  have  seen  the  full  beauty  and  strength  of  it.  She 
has  risen  superior  to  even  the  idol  that  I  had  formed  of  her  in 
my  heart,  when  I  loved  her  so  madly." 

"  Loved  h(?r,  Basil !     Do  you  not  love  her  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  as  the  angels  love." 

"  AVherefore  thus,  Basil?  Are  not  her  trials  over?  Will  you 
not  guard  her  future  life  ?  "Will  you  not  make  amends  to  her 
for  all  she  has  endured  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Lotty,  as  a  brother." 

"No  more,  Basil?" 

"  No,  Lotty,  I  cannot." 

"  Tlien  farewell  to  my  last  scheme  of  match-making.  Yet, 
why  is  it  so,  Basil?  she  is  more  worthy  of  your  love  than 
before." 

"  Granted,  Lotty,  doultly  granted.  But  we  men,  calling  our- 
selves your  superiors  in  all  things,  must  bow  the  knee  before  the 
true  and  constant  affection  of  a  woman's  heart. .  I  am  faithless  ; 
I  almost  tliiiik  I  love  another." 

"  Then  I  shall  hate  that  other,  Basil." 

"  Hate  her  as  much  as  you  please,  Lotty,  provided  she  makes 
me  happy." 

"  Yon  are  scKisli,  Basil.  Like  Flo.,  1  will  neither  make  nor 
meddle  iu  your  matters." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  305 

"  Nay,  Lotty,  grant  me  your  best  wislies,  at  all  events  ;  for 
the  heart  I  wish  to  win  is  so  pure,  so  true,  so  noble,  that  did  it 
not  love  me  with  all  its  powers,  I  know  I  should  be  rejected  on 
the  spot." 

"  Then  take  my  best  wishes,  since  she  seems  so  worthy  of 
you  ;  but,  for  goodness'  sake  !  let  me  hear  no  more  of  the  matter." 

"  Lotty,  do  not  be  angry.  Come,  we  will  talk  of  something 
else.  I  like  your  Mrs.  Laird  very  much.  She  told  me  long 
stories  about  you." 

"  She  might  have  employed  her  time  better." 

"  Lotty,  you  must  have  suffered  much." 

*'  I  suffer  nothing  now." 

*'  Wlien  I  loved  you  so,  Lotty,  as  the  fearless,  warm-hearted 
child,  I  did  not  think  you  were  something  much  beyond  ;  a  les- 
son to  us  all,  an  example  in  every  way." 

"  Good-by  !  "  said  Lotty  ;  "  you  take  me  for  a  baby  still, 
I  see." 

She  ran  away ;  and  Basil  went  to  join  his  brothers,  who 
were  at  a  little  distance,  practising  jumping  over  a  leaping-bar. 

"  We  would  not  come  and  disturb  you,  Basil,  because  you 
were  Avalking  with  Mrs.  Leigh,"  said  Brian. 

"  And  why  did  that  prevent  you?  I  thought  she  was  such  a 
favorite  of  yours." 

"  So  she  is,"  said  both  the  boys  ;  "  but  as  we  said  to  each 
other,  when  we  saw  you,  if  we  walked  alone  with  Mrs.  Leigh, 
we  should  certainly  tell  her  how  much  we  loved  her,  so  we 
thought  you  could  not  help  doing  so  also." 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  I  did." 

"And  what  did  she  say?  O  !  Basil,  did  she  say  she  would 
marry  you  —  be  our  sister  ?     I'll  kiss  her  every  day  then." 

"  Stop,  stop,  boys  ;  not  so  fast.     I  may  not  allow  that." 

"  Once  a  week  then,  dear  Basil." 

"  Well,  perhaps  once  a  week  I  may ;  but  there  is  one  great 
impediment.  She  would  not  hear  me  —  she  ran  away,  as  you 
saw  just  now." 

The  two  boys  groaned.  And  all  breakfast-time  they  sat 
sorrowful  and  silent,  and  ate  very  little,  which  was  not  at  all 
their  i;sual  custom. 

In  vain  Mrs.  Bankes  cheered  them  up,  in  her  usual  rather 
vulgar  style,  by  affectionate  slaps  on  the  back,  and  incessant 
friendly  winks  ;  they  remained  plunged  in  deep  sorrow,  and 
never  looked  at  Lotty  without  further  sighs.  So  Mrs.  Bankes 
began  to  foresee  various  strange  things,  and  opened  her  eyes 
26* 


306  MARGARET 

accordinjrly.  Before  breakfast  -vvas  finished,  she  had  come  to 
the  concUision  that  both  the  Erie  boys,  not  bcinj?  so  much 
younger  than  Lotty,  were  deeply  in  love  Avith  her,  and  that  they 
•would  jirobahly  have  a  deadly  quarrel ;  and  that  Lord  Erlscourt 
•was  making  up  to  Lady  Leigh  himself.  He  had  put  two  pats 
of  butter  on  her  plate  unknowingly,  and  twice  slipped  out  the 
•word  '•  Margaret."  She  would  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of 
informing  Lotty  of  this  state  of  affairs. 


CHAPTER    LXVI. 

"  So,  Lotty,  I  see  "which  •way  the  Aviud  lies  ;  you  and  Mar- 
garet will  be  sisters  after   all,"  said  Mrs.  Bankes. 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  manage  it  so,  Flo." 

"  Not  at  all ;  I  live  for  nothing  so  much  as  to  oblige  my  friends. 
Unlike  Carry By-the-bye,  have  you  seen  her  lately?  " 

"  Yes,  last  summer." 

"  Then,  my  dear,  you  know  she  has  two  more  babies,  each 
paler  and  more  frightful  than  the  first ;  and  if  I  thought  her  baby- 
mad  before,  she  now  ought  to  be  made  principal  nurse  to  an 
infant  school.  Upon  my  word,  I  never  see  her  without  thinking 
of  a  basin  of  pap." 

"  She  used  to  be  very  pretty." 

"  Pretty  !  yes  ;  but  such  a  slattern.  She  thinks  of  nothing 
but  those  children  ;  and  "woidd  you  believe  it,  Mr.  lloyston  made 
her  a  present  of  a  gray  Moire  (she  really  went  about  not  fit  to 
be  seen),  and  she  exchanged  it,  my  dear,  for  three  little  drab- 
colored  pelisses,  embroidered  in  sky-blue  silk.  And  you  may 
think,  with  her  weak  babies,  what  they  were  like,  in  a  week. 
Su(;h  a  love  of  a  gray  !  silver  gray.  I  helped  to  choose  it  :  ten 
shillings  and  sixpence  a  yard,  my  dear." 

"  I  suppose  she  has  a  right  to  do  as  she  pleases." 

"  Not  at  all,  Lotty  ;  that  is  a  very  mistaken  notion  of  yours. 
People  should  always  remcmljor  their  friends,  imder  any  circum- 
stances. It  is  rpiitc  a  point  with  me  to  do  so  ;  and  that  is  why 
J  interest  myself  so  iimcli  about  you.  Now  mark  my  words,  and 
be  cari'l'ul  of  those  Erie  boys.  One  is  a  boy  no  longer,  and  he 
will  he  getting  your  name  compromised.  "Widows  sliould  l)e  so 
pariicular,  twice  as  muck  so  as  single  women,  and  that  is  why  X 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  307 

wish  you  to  •warn  Margaret.  It  really  is  not  right  having  Lord 
Erlscourt  always  in  her  house,  and  consulting  him  on  eveiy 
occasion." 

"  O  !  now  you  think  she  is  going  to  marry  him  ;  last  night  it 
was  Mr.  Grey." 

"  I  can  never  forgive  you,  Lotty,  about  that.  I  shall  never 
forget  Lord  Erlscourt's  look  when  I  first  told  him  ;  really,  the 
muscles  about  his  mouth  quivered  and  shook,  until  I  thought  he 
would  go  and  knock  Mr.  Grey  down.  No  wonder,  poor  man  ! 
Now  I  see  which  Avay  the  wind  blows.  By-the-by,  what  im- 
lucky  person  was  it  who  hooked  that  poor  Mr.  Grey  in  (really 
he  is  a  very  nice,  agreeable  man  ;  Fred,  says  sensible  enough, 
though  a  little  too  religious  for  him)  to  marry  that  poor  old 
thing?" 

"  Did  no  one  tell  you,  Flo.,  it  was  an  old  affair,  begun  ten 
years  ago  ?  " 

"  Law  !  so  that's  it.  "Well,  to  return  to  Margaret ;  of  course 
she  will  not  be  such  a  fool  as  to  refuse  Lord  Erlscourt." 

"  I  never  asked  her,  and  I  don't  suppose  he  has,"  said  Lotty. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  he  is  going  to  ;  of  that  I  am  positive.  He 
gave  her  three  pats  of  butter,  one  after  another,  and  called  her 
his  dearest  Margaret !  " 

"  Great  symptoms,  Flo." 

"  Pooh,  child  !  you  will  never  get  older  or  Aviser,  as  long  as 
you  live,  such  pains  as  I  take  with  you  too.  But  remember  my 
advice  in  this  instance  ;  don't  associate  too  much  with  that  old 
Scotchwoman  —  she  will  be  doing  you  a  mischief  some  day, 
with  her  gossiping  tongue." 

"  Much  obliged,  mem  ;  I'll  aye  trust  that  ye  will  be  to  the 
fore,  to  help  the  young  leddy  out  on  it." 

"  Dear  me  !  I  had  no  idea  you  were  so  near.  However,  I 
never  say  anything  of  which  I  am  ashamed,  so  I  cannot  apolo- 
gize." 

"  Deed,  mem,  for  a'  Janet  Laird  cares,  ye  may  keep  your 
apologees  to  yoursel'.  I  wad  think  ill  o'  mysel'  if  ye  could  say 
aught  to  fret  me.  Gang  yer  Ava.ys,  guid  body,  the  world  is  wide 
enough  for  us  twa,  wi'out  me  fashing  mysel'  to  rub  agin  you." 

"  Vulgar  old  woman  !  "  muttered  Mrs.  Bankes,  walking  off. 

"  My  bairn,  I  am  wanting  your  company  on  a  bit  business  o' 
Mr.  Grey's.  There  is  a  misguided  set  o'  young  things  doon  i' 
them  cottages  by  the  burn,  and  he  thinks  if  we  wad  just  luik 
after  them  a  bit,  they  might  get  righted.  We  are  no  to  flite 
'em  with  owre  much  guid  talk,  which,  aye  me,  for  weak  human 


308  MARGARET 

nature,  gaes  a  pnir  niisguiilcd  body  sit  up  their  prood  backs  ; 
but  -when  we  hae  gettin*  round  'em,  we  maun  thou  tell  him. 
Tliev  are  yure  liooses,  my  bairn,  and  they  aye  tliink  a  deal  o* 
the  little  fairy  mistress.  The  Lord  Ibrgie  us  I  thinking  so  mickle 
on  ye,  bairn." 

"  The  Lord  forgive  me,  if  I  do  not  prove  both  grateful  and 
deserviug,"  answered  Lotty,  gravely.     "  But  I  am  ready." 

''  Ay,  my  bairn,"  continued  Mrs.  Laird,  as  they  pursued 
their  way.  "  When  I  think  o'  the  first  time  I  catched  a  glint 
o'  your  little  cliild  face,  I  could  a'most  beat  myself  for  thinking 
of  what  I  thought  ;  and  says  the  doctor  to  me,  '  I  always 
kenned  she  was  something  abuve  the  common.'  Ay,  but  thon's 
a  man,  that  my  lord." 

"  He  docs  not  tliink  himself  a  Avoman,  I  dare  say,  Mrs. 
Laird." 

"  Hoot,  bairn !  de  ye  ken  he  has  asked  the  doctor  and  me 
to  visit  him,  when  ye  are  a'  Avi'  my  Lady  Montagu?  " 

"I  am  very  glad  of  it,"  said  Lotty. 

"  And  he  is  no  married,  bairn  !  " 

"  No,  not  yet,  Mrs.  Laird  ;  but  I  hope  he  will  soon." 

"And  who  to,  child?" 

"  Why,  you  are  Mrs.  Bankes  over  again.  I  shall  gratify  no 
such  curiosity,  except  to  tell  you,  once  he  was  very  much  in 
love,  and  upon  the  lady's  marrying,  he  almost  died  of  grief. 
But  she  is  not  married  now  ;  her  husband  is  dead." 

"  And  you  think  he  will  marry  her,  my  bairn  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Lotty,  as  she  switched  off  the  head  of  a 
great  thistle  with   a  little  stick. 

^  Bairn,  ye  dinua  look  pleased." 

"  I  think  I  am  in  a  bad  humor  some  how,  Mrs.  Laird.  I  think 
Mrs.  Bankes  teases  me." 

"  Ay,  a  body  like  tliat  is  aye  a  lighted  candle  stuck  in  a  barrel 
of  poodre  ;  I'll  hae  to  gie  her  my  mind  atbre  she  leaves  ;  I 
canna,  as  JNIr.  Grey  says,  laugh  an  ill  word  all'.  .So,  my  laird's 
ganging  this  stunnier  aff  to  Holland,  is  he?" 

"  Yes,  we  have  liiard  some  more  particulars  about  the  ship, 
and  he  does  not  tliink  Lady  Leigh  will  be  quite  hapi)y,  xuitil  he 
has  seen  the  wreck  himself —  at  least,  what  is  left  of  her." 

"  A  feckless  errand,  my  bairn,  but  I  wad  na  be  the  person  to 
deny  my  Leddy  Leigh  auglit  slie  asked.  I  wad  think  I  was  hin- 
dering ane  of  the  Lord's  chosen.  And  wi'  a'  her  saintly  luiks, 
tlic  doctor  tt'lls  me  slic  is  aye  the  best  hand  at  business  he  ever 
lighted  on  ;  and  a'  tell  the  same  thing.  She  has  getten  the 
estates  most  righted,  they  tell  me." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  309 

"  Yes,  and  of  late  a  large  sum  has  been  paid  into  the  bank 
from  Australia,  and  it  is  supposed  Mr.  Price,  the  agent  that 
went  off  with  so  much,  money,  has  repented,  and  returned  some 
to  her,  or  else  he  has  made  his  fortune  at  the  gold  diggings,  and 
has  become  an  honest  man." 

"  Weel,  I  wish  him  weel  on  wi'  repentance  and  amendment. 
So  noo,  bairn,  here  is  the  house,  and  ye  maun  just  pit  on  yer  bit 
sweetest  ways,  to  beguile  they  puir  bodies  to  their  guid." 

^  ¥^  ^  ^  ^  yf^ 

"My  dear  Lotty  !  "  said  Mr.  Bankes,  meeting  her  on  her 
return  home,  "  what  do  you  think?  " 

Mrs.  Bankes's  eager,  excited,  worldly  face,  did  not  look  to 
advantage  by  that  of  Lotty ;  for  an  elevated  feeling  made  her 
eyes  shine  with  the  holy  light  of  a  pure  star.  She  had  not 
labored  in  vain  on  the  errand  she  had  been  with  Mrs.  Laird. 
And  the  touching  homage  that  the  rough,  wild  people  of  the 
hamlet  had  paid  her  innocent  youth,  and  beauty,  and  gentle 
Avords,  had  gi'eatly  affected  her.  She  was  deep  in  thought,  as  to 
the  cause  that  made  some  natures  so  repel  the  good  that  waited 
but  to  find  a  way  into  their  hearts  ;  while  others  seemed  to  cull 
pure  and  holy  lessons  from  even  the  depth  of  misery  and  degra- 
dation into  Avhich  they  had  fallen. 

She  Avas  thinking  over  one  speech  that  had  been  said  to  her : 
"  I  would  like  to  please  Mr.  Grey,  if  I  could,  he  is  so  heart- 
some."  And  she  had  returned  for  answer :  "  Mr.  Grey  seems 
to  wish  that  everybody  should  be  as  happy  as  himself." 

"  Ay,  deed,  does  he,"  answered  the  man.  "And  I'd  like  to 
know  his  way,  weel ;  he  is  a  kindly  body,  and  shakes  hands  as 
if  one  was  just  of  his  own  sort.  But  I  don't  know  how  I'll  ever 
look  i'  the  face  of  mankind  with  such  like  clear  eyes." 

"  He  loves  the  good  God  for  giving  him  so  many  blessings, 
for  so  fair  a  Avorld  to  live  in,  so  many  opportunites  of  doing 
good,"  answered  Lotty. 

"  I  am  bound  to  say,  he  does  nae  try  it  owre  strong  upon  us. 
I  am  weary  o'  hearing  I'm  sich  a  lost  sinner.  I'd  like  to  hear 
how  I  can  get  oot  of  this  pit  o'  wickedness,  into  which  I  never 
pit  myself." 

"  Mr.  Grey  told  us  that  last  Sunday  in  church,  and  promised 
to  go  on  with  it  next  Sunday." 

"  Then  I  think  I'll  be  going  there  ;  I  wish  to  oblige  him,  he 
is  heartsome  and  civil  like." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Lotty.  "  Come  ;  and  as  I  go  into  church, 
I  shall  just  look  to  see  if  you  are  thei-e,  and  give  you  a  nod." 


310  MARGARET 

"  I'll  take  it  very  kind  of  ye,  madam,  for  I'll  feel  myself  a 
stranger,  no  doubt." 

So  Lotty  Aviis  pondering  over  tlio  rights  and  the  WTongs  of 
becruiliu":  this  man  to  church,  tiirough  the  instrumentality  of"  lik- 
ing  for  a  fellow-mortal  rather  than  a  purer  motive,  love  for 
God  ;  and  having  happily  settled  in  her  own  mind  that  it  Avas  a 
good  thing  to  have  got  him  to  promise  to  come  to  church  at  all, 
here  face  was  full  of  pure,  happy  feelings,  when  she  met  Mrs. 
Bankes  Avilh  hers  full  of  life's  bustle. 

"'  I  think  it  is  ralhc-r  chilly  this  evening,  Flo.,"  said  Lotty,  in 
answer  to  her  question. 

"  Nonsense  !  child  ;  he  has  proposed,  actually  and  absolutely 
proposed  this  afternoon,  and  been  accepted." 

For  a  moment  a  quick,  glowing  blush  crimsoned  Lotty's  face, 
and  as  it  died  away,  left  her  apparently,  from  the  contrast,  per- 
fectly pale  ;  but  she  answered  without  a  shade  of  difference  in 
her  voice,  without  even  a  tone  of  astonishment, — 

"  You  are  speaking  of  Lord  Erlscourt  and  Lady  Leigh." 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  they  little  knew  that  I  Avas  hidden  behind  the 
curtain,  and  saAV  the  Avliole   scene  :  and  he  kissed  her  hand  ! 

0  !  my  dear,  Avith  such  fervency,  it  A\^as  quite  touching,  and  I 
could  not  help  longing  to  see  Fred,  in  just  the  same  graceful 
attitude." 

"  Are  yoii  sure  you  have  made  no  mistake,  Flo.?" 
"  3Ie  !  my  dear  ;  ine  make  a  mistake  !  no  I  thank  you.  I  am 
very  grateful  to  the  Almighty  for  my  full  share  of  Avits,  and  per- 
haps a  little  over.  I  don't  mean  to  say  I  overheard  every  AA'ord, 
because  that  Avould  have  been  Aery  dishonorable  on  my  part  — 
in  fact,  such  an  act  Avoidd  have  been  quite  beneath  nie  ;  but 
Avheii  ^Margaret  clas[)cd  her  hands  Avith  doliglit,  and  leaned  upon 
my  lord's  shoulder  Avilh  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  Avhat  could 

1  think  of  that,  my  dear?  " 

"  Tliat  Avas  a  A'ery  natural  action,  if  Basil  had  been  doing 
Avhat  he  often  has  done,  acting  a  l)rother's  part  by  her,  and 
promising  her  his  helj)  in  something  she  may  have  set  her  heart 
on." 

''  Pooh,  pooh  !  my  dear  !  don't  chatter  on  in  that  foolish  Avay. 
I  heard — 1  could  not  help  it — I  heard  her  say,  quite  loud,  in 
consequence  of  her  energetic  feelings,  —  'Ah  !  Basil,  I  Avanted 
but  this  to  make  my  future  life  happy  ;  I  shall  then  see  the 
AV(;rld  and  all  around  me  in  a  very  different  light  to  what  I  have 
done  for  the  last  eighteen  monllis.'  And  then,  my  dear,  her 
voice  dro])ped,  he  kissed  her  hand,  and  it  Avas,  Avithout  exccp- 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  811 

tion,  the  most  moving  scene  I  ever  witnessed.  I  slipped  away 
through  the  open  study  door,  and  have  been  running  iu  every 
direction  in  search  of  you.  Now,  really,  Margaret  has  proved 
herself  worthy  of  the  fond  interest  I  have  ever  shown  her,  and  I 
hope,  poor  thing !  my  Lord  will  make  amends  to  her  for  the  sad 
life  she  led  with  Sir  Harold.  But  now,  my  dear  Lotty,  that  is 
not  the  half  of  what  I  have  to  say  to  you  ;  of  course  you  will  be 
turned  out  of  your  snug  quarters  here,  and  as  you  cannot  return 
to  your  own  home  with  those  vulgar  Scotch  people  in  it,  I  have 
thought  of  a  capital  scheme.  You  shall  come  and  live  with 
Fred,  and  me  ;  Fred,  is  very  fond  of  you,  and  you  would  with 
us,  my  dear,  have  cheerful  and  congenial  society,  and  I  will 
make  a  point  of  introducing  you  everywhere,  and  with  your 
pretty,  youthful  style  of  beauty,  and  your  peculiar  dress,  and 
doubling  the  real  amount  of  your  jointure,  I  make  no  doubt  you 
will  make  a  capital  match,  some  how." 

"  To  which  I  shall  certainly  forbid  the  banns,  Mrs.  Bankes," 
said  Lord  Erlscourt. 

"  O,  law  !  my  Lord,  how  you  do  startle  one.  "What  on  earth 
sent  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  came  in  search  of  the  same  person  as  you  did,  therefore 
no  wonder  we  met." 

"  I  hope,  my  Lord,  you  overheard  nothing." 

"  I  heard  quite  sufficient  for  me  to  tell  you,  Mrs.  Bankes, 
that  take  the  whole  population,  including  Mr.  Bankes,  double 
them  all,  extract  from  each  every  good  they  possess,  and  bestow 
it  upon  one  man,  still,  in  my  eyes,  he  Avould  not  be  worthy  of 
Mrs.  Leigh." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,  my  Lord ;  Lotty  has  always  been  a 
great  favorite  of  mine." 

"  Good-by  to  you  both,"  exclaimed  Lotty ;  "  if  you  have  no 
better  subject  for  your  conversation  than  my  unworthy  self,  ex- 
cuse my  remaining." 

Lotty  and  Bear  departed  together. 

"  May  I  ask,  Mrs.  Bankes,  what  you  have  been  telling  Mrs. 
Leigh,  in  addition  to  the  charming  scheme  for  her  future  fate?  " 

"  Nothing,  I  assure  you  ;  nothing  at  all." 

"  What !  "  continued  Basil,  smiling  ;  "  nothing  to  tell,  after 
being  behind  a  curtain?  No,  no,  Mrs.  Bankes,  I  have  not  so 
poor  an  opinion  of  you." 

"  Indeed,  my  Lord  ;  on  my  honor,  I  made  my  escape  as  soon 
as  ever  I  discovered  what  a  very  private  conversation  I  was 
overhearing," 


812  MARGARET 

"  But  voii  heard  enough  to  inform  Mrs.  Leigh  of  an  important 

fact '-" 

'•  AVhy,  yes,  you  know,  how  could  I  mistake,  my  Lord?" 

"  That  I  offered  my  hand  to  Lady  Leigh,  and  she  accepted?" 

"  Allow  me  to  be  the  first  to  congratulate  you,  my  Lord.     I 

always   thought  Margaret  much  more   suited  to   you  than  Sir 

ILarold.     Lucky  woman  as  she  is,  to  have   got  rid  of  him  so 

easily." 

"judging  of  her  by  yourself,  I  presume.  Poor  Mr.  Bankes  ! 
But  pray  excuse  me,  you  have  omitted  such  a  very  important 
part  of  the  news  to  Mrs.  Leigh,  I  must  overtake  her,  for  the 
purpose  of  imparting  it." 

"  O  !  pray  tell  me  first,  my  Lord  ;  I  will  be  sure  to  tell  Lotty. 
—  Ah,  well !  he  is  gone.  Certainly,  he  is  the  handsomest  man  ; 
if  I  had  seen  him  before  Fred.,  now  there's  no  saying.  How- 
ever, that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  I  wonder  Avhat  made  him 
laugh  so,  as  he  Avent  away !  I  doubt  he  is  satirical ;  if  so,  poor 
Margaret  is  in  for  it  again.  A  satirical  husband  always  ends 
in  sneering  at  his  Avifc.  I  should  like  to  see  Fred,  indulging  in 
so  much  as  a  smile  at  my  expense  !  AVell,  so  really  this  allair 
is  settled,  and  I  have  no  one  with  whom  to  talk  the  matter  over. 
I  am  disgusted  Avith  Margaret,  I  must  allow,  making  such  a 
fuss  about  her  first  husband,  and  only  A\'aiting  a  mouth  or  tAvo 
over  the  year  to  accept  another  Avith  gratitude,  if  you  please. 
But  this  is  a  brilliant  plan  of  mine  about  Lotty.  She  is  sure  to 
pay  handsomely  for  her  board,  and  is  really  a  very  striking-look- 
ing person  though  she  is  so  little  ;  and  I  don't  tell  her  of  it,  because 
she  may  groAV  conceited.  Her  money  Avill  help  Fred,  and  me 
Avell  over  the  midsummer  bills  ;  and  I  shall  become  quite  the 
fashion,  Avith  such  a  pretty,  rich  Avidow  in  my  house." 


CHAPTER     LXVII. 

Flo.  pursued  the  tenor  of  these  thoughts  ;  and  in  discoursing 
them  over  Avith  Fred.,  she  Avas  very  nearly  late  for  dinner.  But 
others  Averc  later  still.  Though  the  last  bell  had  rung,  no 
Lotty  Avas  to  be  seen,  and  Lord  Frlscourt  Avas  pacing  up  and 
doAvn  the  room  in  a  manner  by  no  means  common  to  him. 

"Have  you  seen   Mrs.  Leigh?"  he   asked  eagerly  of  Mrs. 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  313 

Bankcs,  as  she  entered  the  room,  hanging  elegantly,  as  she 
termed  it,  on  dear  Fred.'s  arm. 

Tiiough  she  simply  answered  "No,"  her  thoughts  had  time  to 
wonder  what  Margaret  must  think,  to  see  her  intended  putting 
himself  into  such  a  fuss  all  for  another  woman 

"  Dinner  is  served,  my  Lady,"  pompously  announced  the 
butler,  startling  all  Flo.'s  thoughts  off,  by  the  sonorousness  of 
his  mode  of  imparting  such  interesting  news. 

"  We  must  wait,"  said  Lady  Leigh.  "  Mrs.  Leigh  has  not 
returned  home." 

"  She  has  dined,  my  Lady,  and  desired  me  to  inform  you  she 
■would  be  with  you  at  tea." 

With  marked  vexation.  Lord  Erlscourt  gave  his  arm  to  Mrs. 
Bankes,  who  forgave  him  his  decided  want  of  good  taste,  because 
of  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  his  case.  On  no  account  could 
they  have  arranged  it,  for  her  to  go  in  to  dinner  on  the  arm  of 
Fred.  —  that  Avould  have  been  so  glaring  before  the  servants. 
Otherwise,  she  enjoyed  very  much  having  Lord  Erlscourt  all  to 
herself,  and  took  every  opportunity  of  breaking  into  any  conver- 
sation between  him  and  Margaret,  because  she  felt  it  no  more 
than  her  duty,  if  it  were  even  for  but  one  day,  to  prevent  the 
servants  guessing  the  real  state  of  things.  If  Margaret  had 
shown  a  want  of  feeling  and  delicacy,  it  was  the  more  imperative 
she  should  be  particular.  Therefore  she  became  at  last  quite 
confidential ;  whispering  all  sorts  of  things  into  his  ear,  about 
Lotty,  and  Avhere  she  could  be  gone  —  perhaps  to  High  Leigh, 
to  tell  the  news  —  until  Fred.'s  hair  began  to  stand  on  end  with 
amazement.  And  if  Lord  Erlscourt  had  not  answered  all  the 
whispers  in  a  loud,  anti-contidential  tone,  with  a  countenance 
and  manner  to  match,  it  might  have  so  occurred  that  Fred, 
would  have  succumbed  to  a  fit  of  jealousy. 

Lotty  Avas  in  the  tea-room  when  they  left  the  dining-room,  and 
had  nothing  to  say  in  excuse  for  her  absence,  but  that  she  fan- 
cied she  would  like  a  long  walk,  and  Bear  fancied  the  same 
thing. 

She  was  very  silent  all  the  evening ;  no  ready  answers  for 
Mrs.  Bankes.    Even  Margaret  said,  "  Are  you  tired,  my  Lotty  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  am  never  tired,"  muttered  Lotty. 

"Let  us  have  some  music,  Florence?"  asked  Margaret; 
which  request  was  often  a  gentle  ruse  on  Lady  Leigli's  part,  to 
employ  the  ever-active  Mrs.  Bankes  in  something  harmless. 

Basil  took  the  opportunity  of  her  being  so  engaged  to  Avrite  a 
little  note,  and  fastening  it  in  Bear's  collar,  he  whispered  to  him 
27 


814  MARGARET 

to  whom  to  convey  it.     After  much   coquetry  on  Bear's  part, 
Lotty  obtained  the  note.     It  only  said, — 

"  May  I  walk  with  you  iu  the  moruiug? 

"  Basil." 

"  Go  and  say  yes,  Bear,"  answered  Lotty,  tossing  the  note 
into  the  lire. 

Basil  recovered  his  good  humor,  and  found  liimsolf,  under  the 
influence  thereof,  praising  Mrs.  Bankes's  dashing,  cra.'<hing, 
railliug  mode  of  scrambling  over  the  keys  of  the  piano,  intend- 
ing people  to  believe  she  was  performing  in  the  most  approved 
style. 

At  night,  when  Lotty  went  up  stairs,  she  sat,  for  some  time 
after  undressing,  thinking  iu  her  chair  instead  of  retiring  to  her 
couch.  Bear  sat  opposite  to  her,  winking  and  blinking  liis  eyes 
all  to  no  purpose  at  this  strange  proceeding.  At  last  he  elevated 
a  paw,  and  tapped  her  inquiringly  on  the  arm. 

"  So,  Bear,  you  wonder  what  is  the  matter  with  Lotty  ?  She 
is  not  tired,  no,  no  ;  but  some  how  her  heart  is  Aveary.  "Well, 
what  do  you  wish  to  say?  Do  you  think  it  was  all  true  that 
Flo.  said  ?  No,  you  don't.  You  turn  away  your  head.  Neither 
do  I,  B(!ar  ;  Ave  know  our  Margaret  better ;  and  Basil  is  too 
thouglitlul,  too  considerate,  to  ask  now.  Besides  —  besides, 
Avliat  did  he  mean,  liy  Avhat  he  said  this  morning !  O  !  you 
know,  do  you?  you  are  pleased,  and  yet  you  know  it  must  not 
be  so.  Do  you  not  see  that  Lotty  is  not  Lotty  this  evening?  — 
she  is  weak  and  foolish.  Tell  Lolty  to  recollect  her  duty,  to 
call  up  all  her  resolution  ;  for  to-morrow,  Boar,  to-morrow  morn- 
ing yon  and  she  will  require  all  the  fortitude,  all  the  decision, 
all  the  determination,  that  ever  you  used  before  iu  your  Avhole 
lives,  concentrated  in  one  short  half-hour.  Via  have  boi'ne  many 
things  together.  Bear,  and  this  last  trial,  this  one  other  duty,  is 
for  ]Margaret,  our  queen.  Anything  Ave  can  bear  for  her,  even 
though  we  have  discovered,  even  though  we  feel,  Ave  half  guess, 
Avhy  Ave  could  not  love  poor  I'hilip,  and  why  —  yes,  'tis  true, 
you  need  not  turn  away,  why  Ave  shall  have  this  heartache  for- 
ever. But  it  can  be  done  —  it  shall.  A  fond,  fooli.sh  fancy 
makes  him  think  he  loves  L(jtty  and  Bear.  So  he  does,  so  he 
ever  will,  but  not  as  he  is  to  love  ^Margaret.  No  Aveakncss  on 
our  parts  shall  mar  that  Avork.  Our  Margaret  has  had  suflering 
enough  ;  with  Basil  to  guard  her  life,  under  God's  blessing,  she 
Avill  know  what  happiness  is.  So  now.  Bear,  to  bed  ;  Avhatever 
occurs  to  us,  still  Ave  Avould  not  be  Carry  and  Flo.  ;  and  Avhile  that 
is  the  case,  and  our  Margaret  is  happy,  what  more  need  we  ?  " 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  315 


CHAPTER    LXVIII. 

Bear  was  very  unfeeling,  being  in  conduct  more  like  a  thought- 
less, mischievous  puppy,  than  the  recipient  of  a  grave  and  heavy 
secret ;  so  that,  when  Lotty  was  dressing  in  the  morning,  he  had 
to  be  scolded  for  childish  behavior  on  sevei'al  occasions.  It  was 
so  early,  too,  for  his  little  mistress  had  hardly  slept  all  night, 
and,  as  she  noiselessly  opened  the  hall  door  to  let  themselves  out, 
Bear  was  quite  rude  in  his  efforts  to  rush  past.  It  was  a  dark 
February  morning,  the  stars  were  yet  shining  in  the  deep, 
gloomy  sky,  showing,  by  their  little  glancing  lights,  Basil  lean- 
ing against  a  pillar  of  the  portico. 

"  How  early  you  are,  Basil !  "  said  Lotty,  at  once  a  stern  hero- 
ine outwardly.     "  No  one  is  stiri'ing  yet." 

"  Save  you  and  I,  Lotty,  which  is  just  what  I  wished.     Mrs. 
Bankes,  in  particular,  is,  I  trust,  still  sleeping." 
"  You  seem  to  be  quite  afraid  of  her." 

"  How  your  heart  beats,  Lotty  !  "  interrupted  Basil,  as  he  drew 
her  arm  under  his. 

"  No,  it  does  not,"  said  Lotty,  angrily  ;  "  it  is  your  own.  I 
feel  it  against  my  arm." 

"  That  I  am  willing  to  allow,"  answered  he  ;  "  for  if  I  only 
see  Bear's  nose,  my  heart  is  very  much  agitated." 

"  Bear  is  off  over  the  fields,  so  do  not  put  such  nonsense  upon 
him." 

"I  do  not  mean  to  do  so  ;  you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  that 
when  I  see  Bear,  1  expect  his  mistress." 

They  had  been  walking  on  during  this  conversation,  and  now 
came  to  a  turn  in  the  path  ;  to  the  right  was  the  cedar  avenue, 
dark,  close,  mystical,  —  a  true  lovers'  bower.  To  the  left  was 
a  stile  of  three  steps,  wliich  led  to  a  breezy  knoll  in  the  park. 
Basil  paused. 

"  Lotty,  if  what  I  have  to  say  seems  to  you  precipitate,  selfish, 
inconsiderate,  impute  these  sins  to  Mrs.  Bankes  rather  than  to 

me " 

"•  You  don't  seem  to  like  her,"  interrupted  Lotty,  in  a  short, 
dry  tone. 

"  I  may,  ere  long,  love  her,  for  being  the  means  of  ending  a 
suspense  that  has  been  hateful  and  harassing  to  me.  Twice 
before  have  I  seen  the  happiness  of  my  life  slip  from  my  grasp 


816  MARGARET 

through  over-many  pcniples.  I  might  have  -^vaitcd  —  I  wonld 
have  waited  yet  a'  lew  mouths  more,  iu  pure  delicacy  to  your 
mouruiug,  but  Mrs.  Baukes's  commuuication  to  you  yesterday 
relieves  me  from  silence.  Lotty,  I  love  you,  sweetest,  dearest 
Lotty  —  I  "Nvoo  you  for  my  wile." 

"  You  mistake,  Basil,"  said  Lotty,  iu  a  voice  that  might  have 
come  out  of  a  marble  quarry,  it  sounded  so  hard  and  cold.  Basil 
made  no  answer,  but  suddenly  put  his  arm  round  the  slight 
waist,  and,  with  one  effort,  he  lifted  her  up  and  placed  her  on 
the  upper  step  of  the  stile  ;  then,  with  his  arm  still  round  her, 
he  knelt  on  the  lower  one,  and  looked  straight  into  her  eyes. 

In  his  she  read  an  answer  to  her  remonstrance,  that  needed 
no  words.  Glowing  with  the  love  of  a  noble,  truthful  heart, 
Avith  so  much  of  entreaty,  that  hers  beat  with  pain,  knowing 
what  she  must  do  ;  with  such  a  world  of  tenderness,  it  throbbed 
with  wild  happiness  that  she  had  gained  such  a  look  ;  with  such 
a  tide  of  past  sorrows,  with  such  a  fear  of  present  grief,  no  won- 
der that  Lotty's  slight  figure  began  to  tremble  with  the  greatness 
of  her  task,  and  that  so  many  mingled  emotions  brought  the 
blood  in  rushing  fever  to  her  face.  Unable  to  bear  the  ardent 
and  entreating  glance  of  those  eyes,  feeling  that  blush  after 
blush  rose  in  uncontrollable  emotion,  Lotty  covered  her  face 
Avith  her  hands.  But  even  iu  them  did  the  crimson  tide  run  to 
the  finger-ends. 

Nevertheless,  unchanged  was  the  firm  voice,  as  she  again 
said  :  ''  Basil,  this  is  a  mistake." 

"  IIow  can  I  mistake,  Lotty?"  he  answered,  in  the  low  voice 
of  a  heart's  question. 

"  You  forget  the  trees  of  the  old  forest,  and  what  you  told 
them.  You  remember  not  the  old  house,  deep  iu  the  Avoods, 
Avhose  Avails  heard  your  first  secret." 

"  I  remember  them  full  Avell.  I  had  a  sorrow,  and  I  gave  it 
to  them.  I  had  a  grief  that  required  branding  from  the  heart. 
I  laid  the  burning  finger  of  duty  on  the  place,  and  it  Avas  done." 

'•  Only  to  break  forth  the  more  luxuriantly,  Basil,  for  the  for- 
titude Avith  Avhich  it  was  suppressed." 

"  It  broke  fjrth  in  a  ncAV  liirlif,  ha]ipy  and  free  —  a  pure  foun- 
tain, Avelliug  up  to  the  lips  Avilh  brotherly  love,  as  Avas  meet,  and 


no  more  " 


But  noAv,  Basil,  now  it  may  floAV  as  you  list.     She  knows 
you  once  lovi'd  her  ;  Harold  told  her." 

"  Billiiuk  you,  sweet,  loving  Lotty,  so  quick  to  read  all  char- 
acters, what  man  could  look  at  Margaret  and  ask  her  to  love 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  317 

twice  ?  Would  she  act  by  me  thus,  in  sweet,  sisterly  fondness, 
knowing  that  I  once  loved  her  otherwise,  if  she  did  not  feel  I 
would  not  insult  her  with  a  thought  of  marriage  ?  Ah,  Lotty  ! 
your  usually  true  judgment  is  at  fault  here." 

"  Margaret  is  of  a  nature  so  clinging,  so  fond,"  whispered  Lot- 
ty, hurriedly,  "■  so  young,  time  might  accustom  her  to  the  thought. 
Think  what  a  long  life  to  lead,  all  lonely  and  mourning ! " 

"•  She  is  not  lonely,  she  never  will  be ;  she  thinks  of  her 
Harold  by  day  as  walking  by  her  side,  though  unseen  ;  she  sees 
him  in  her  dreams  at  night,  and  communes  with  him.  Look  in 
her  eyes,  and  mark  if  the  remembrance  of  Harold  and  his  fate 
leaves  them  for  a  moment." 

"It  is  true  her  eyes  retain  the  shadow  of  her  grief;  other 
thoughts,  another  happiness,  may  restore  their  light."  ^ 

"  Not  by  me  shall  that  pure  heai-t,  consecrated  to  its  first  and 
only  love,  be  outraged.  The  love  I  gave  Margaret  on  her  mar- 
riage, was  sacredly  a  brother's  ;  and  so  resolutely  was  any  other 
torn  up  by  its  roots,  that  even  in  that  lone  forest  house,  most 
surely  beneath  those  friendly  trees,  did  another  bud  of  love  begin 
to  sprout,  for  a  little  thing  with  a  child's  face  and  a  woman's 
heart." 

"  How  very  inconstant !  "  came  from  Lotty's  lips,  in  a  sort  of 
flighty  imitation  of  Mrs.  Bankes's  manner. 

"  And  when  we  took  that  drive  Avith  Margaret  to  the  ruined 
farm-houses,  the  bud  grew  to  full  and  perfect  blossom,  until,  at 
last,  my  whole  heart  is  filled  with  the  perfume  of  it." 

"  And  yet  you  suffered  me  to  marry  Philip  Leigh  !  "  burst 
irrcpressibly  from  Lotty's  lips. 

"  Ah,  Lotty  !  my  Lotty !  then,  if  I  had  asked  then,  I  should 
not  have  been  refused  ;  nay,  turn  not  away.  Rather  pity  me, 
and  think  of  my  strange,  sad  fate,  to  be  twice  robbed  of  my 
hopes.  This  must  excuse  me,  Lotty,  if  you  think  I  have  been 
too  precipitate." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  excuse.  If  I  were  going  to  marry  you, 
I  might  ask  you  to  wait  until  the  two  years  are  over  ;  but  as  I 
am  not,  no  one  need  know  that  you  have  outraged  my  delicate 
feelings  of  decorum." 

"  In  the  dark,  I  must  have  mistaken  Mrs.  Bankes  for  my 
Lotty  ;  surely      —  " 


u 


You  must  not  ca,ll  me  so.     And  pray  let  me  go,  Basil ;  it  is 
very  cold,  sitting  like  a  turkey  on  the  top  of  a  rail,  in  February." 
"  Then  my  manhood's  hopes  are  to  be  dashed  lo  t1ie  ground, 
like  my  youth's  dreams.     You  are  merciless,  Lotty." 
27* 


818  MARGARET 

"  If  one  is  to  be  disagreeable,  it  is  best  to  do  it  well." 

"  You  are  free." 

"  Good-bj,  Basil." 

As  he  released  her  their  eyes  met. 

"  Lotty,  if  1  consent  to  wait,  that  you  may  have  ample  time 
to  see  hoAV  true  my  opinion  is,  how  mistaken  yours,  —  if  I  serve 
for  you  the  time  of  a  Kachcl's  price,  ay,  and  double  that,  —  may 
I  hope  that  you  will  also " 

'•  Wait !  suppose  I  have  the  chance  of  marrying  Mr.  Bankes's 
red-haired  cousin?     Don't  ask  such  a  sacrifice." 

"  Not  for  worlds."  A  sunny  light  came  into  his  eyes.  "  He 
is  to  be  my  only  rival,  then.  Say  so,  Lotty.  Ah  !  Lotty,  make 
this  one  little  concession  to  me,  on  which  to  hang  a  ray  of  hope." 

"  What  concession  ?  " 

"  You  maj-ry  red-haired  ]\Ir.  Bankes  or  me." 

"  I  shall  be  in  my  grave  before  the  one  fact  happens,  so  I  can 
easily  promise  the  other." 

"  Thank  you  a  thousand  times,  and  yet  a  thousand  times  to 
that.  I  begin  my  servitude  to-iuorrow  ;  it  shall  be  my  own  fault 
if  I  do  not  prove  to  you  the  truth  of  my  opinions  ;  and  if  1  take 
strange  methods  to  do  so,  it  is  but  to  bring  it  unmistakably 
before  your  judgment." 

"Do  whatever  you  like,  only  remember  my  words  —  you 
are  mistaken,  you  were  mistaken,  and  if  you  are  not  careful, 
you  Avill  be  mistaken." 

"  oNIy  choice  is  made  ;  cold-hearted,  but  matchless  Lotty,  fare- 
well!" 


CHAPTER    LXIX. 

Mrs.  Bankes  was  considerably  surprised  to  find  no  Lord 
Erlscourt  at  breakfast,  and  still  more  so  on  hearing  that  he  had 
departed  for  home. 

"  Dear  me  !  is  not  his  departure  rather  sudden?" 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  replied  3I;irg;iret,  iu  calm  tones,  "  I  liad  no  idea 
he  was  going  this  morning,  until  I  heard  he  was  gone." 

"  I  sui)pu.se  to  make  prcpunitions  ?  "  asked  Fk). 

"•  1  have  no  iloubl  of  it,"  answered  Margaret,  as  cuhuly  as 
ever. 

"And  when  is  it  to  be?"  continued  Flo.,  almost  gasping 
with  amazement. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  319 

"  The  moment  tlie  weather  permits,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 

"  In  the  name  of  goodness  !  Margaret,"  exclaimed  Flo.,  '"leave 
off  your  caps  first." 

It  Avas  now  Lady  Leigh's  turn  to  look  astonished,  and,  with  a 
faint  blush  on  her  fair  cheek,  she  said,  "Lord  Erlscourt  has  gone 
to  prepare  for  a  voyage  to  Holland  —  but,  in  fact,  I  need  not 
explain  the  matter  to  you,  for  you  were  in  the  room,  half  hidden 
by  the  window-curtain,  Avhen  he  proposed,  and  I  accepted,  this 
act  of  true  brotherly  kindness." 

"  And  was  that  all  you  settled?  " 

"  You  heard  the  whole,"  answered  Margaret,  her  dove's  eyes 
beginning  to  brighten  with  indignation. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  Avent  away  as  soon  as  I  could,  and  I 
met  Lotty,  and  we  two  settled  it  could  only  be  one  sort  of  pro- 
posal  " 

"  My  Lotty  knows  her  Margaret  better  ;"  and  fondly  kissing 
her,  Margaret  left  the  room. 

"  Well,  to  be  sure  !  off  like  an  enraged  queen.  I  wonder  you 
put  up  with  her  airs,  Lotty." 

"  She  never  gives  me  any." 

"  No,  I  recollect  you  never  could  do  wrong  ;  but,  Lotty,  I  hope 
you  did  not  go  gossiping  over  with  this  news  to  your  old  Scotch 
friend ;  for  if  you  did  you'll  catch  it,  that's  all." 

"  I  will  endure  Avhat  I  catch." 

"  I  know  you  will,  you  good  little  thing  !  You  are  everybody's 
friend,  and  nobody's  enemy  but  your  own." 

"  That  is  the  form  of  consolation  bestowed  upon  him  who 
loveth  good  Avine,  Flo." 

"  Pooh,  pooh,  child  !  but  I  Avish  you  would  listen  to  reason, 
from  your  best  friend,  I  can  tell  you.  Sooner  or  later,  this  mar- 
riage Avill  take  place,  mark  my  Avords.  The  higher  and  more 
lofty  my  Lady  Leigh  holds  her  head,  the  sooner  Avill  she  give  in. 
I  knoAV  precisely  Avhat  her  character  is " 

"  Ever  since  you  thought  it  so  odd,  she  did  not  (to  use  your 
OAvn  phrase,  Flo.)  prig  my  sugar-plums,  Avhen  Ave  Avere  school- 
girls." 

"  You  are  A^ery  nonsensical  this  morning,  Lotty ;  and  where 
are  you  going  noAV  ?  " 

"  To  a  hamlet  on  the  road  to  High  Leigh,  to  take  this  prayer- 
book  to  a  great  sinner." 

"  My  dear,  I  will  go  with  you.  I  Avant  a  private  chat  Avith 
you,  and  I  may  put  you  in  the  Avay  of  doing  a  gi'eat  deal  of  good, 
in  a  sensible  way." 


S20  MARGARET 

Bear  gave  a  sort  of  howl,  which  was  either  caused  by  his  own 
peculiar  sense  of  the  hoaor,  or  because  Lotty  pinched  his  ear. 

"'  Bless  that  dog  !  "  exclaimed  Flo.,  on  the  spur  of  the  start  he 
gave  her ;  "  one  would  suppose  he  was  a  Christian,  and  waa 
jealous  at  my  proposing  to  walk  with  you." 

"  You  are  very  jealous,  are  you  not.  Bear?"  answered  Lotty, 
pinching  again. 

Bear  howled  to  a  roar. 

"  Lotty,  you  must  leave  that  dog  at  home  ;  I  will  not  go  out 
with  sucii  a  brute." 

"  Very  well,  Flo.  — Bear,  you  are  to  stay  at  home." 

Bear  trotted  off,  apparently  quite  content  ;  and  when  Flo. 
joined  Lotty,  in  her  walking  dress,  she  expressed  herself  highly 
satisfied  that  he  was  not  to  be  seen. 

Lotty  laughed,  and  said,  "  Don't  exult  until  you  are  out  of 
the  wood." 

On  the  road  to  the  hamlet,  Mrs.  Bankes  gave  Lotty  a  long 
history  of  all  her  troubles  and  sorrows :  how  she  and  dear 
Fred,  were  fearfully  in  debt ;  how  old  Bankes,  the  father,  would 
lielp  them  no  more  ;  how  stingy  he  was,  and  cross  ;  and  how  all 
might  be  delightfully  arranged  and  settled,  if  she  would  come 
and  live  with  them,  and  giving  them  three  hundred  pounds  per 
annum,  which  she  would  never  miss,  they  might  even  keep  a 
little  brougham.  "  For,  my  dear,  words  cannot  tell  you  how 
cabmen  cheat — they  take  a  perfect  fortune.  Is  this  the  hamlet, 
dear?  how  pretty  !  JJless  me  !  why  that  dog  is  very  like  yours, 
only  he  looks  more  gentle." 

''  Come  here,  sir,"  said  Lotty  ;  "  did  I  not  tell  you,  you  were 
not  to  Avalk  with  us.  Bear?"  for  it  was  he,  who  Avagged  his  tail, 
as  much  as  to  say  he  came  1)y  himself,  and  not  with  tliem. 

*'  So  you  did,"  said  Lotty,  in  answer  to  tlie  mute  appeal ; 
"  tlierefore,  if  you  Avill  behave  like  a  gentleman,  you  may  return 
with  us." 

"  Lotty,  that  dog  is  just  a  demon,  an  evil  spirit ;  if  he  Avere 
mine,  1  should  cvrlainly  have  him  destroyed.  Does  he  under- 
Btaud  all  you  say  ?  " 

"Yes,  like  a  prope-r  demon; — but  here  is  my  friend  Avlioni  I 
came  to  see.  —  1  have  brought  you  a  prayer-book,  to  be  ready 
for  next  Sunday." 

"  Thank  yc,  ma'am.  My  missus  is  main  glad  I  be  going  to 
church  ;  she  says  I  unist  get  faith  to  be  good,  and  1  diunui  joost 
know  wiuil  failli  btj." 

"Your  missus  had  faith,  tliat  Avhen  she  rnarried  you,  you 
would  prove  a  good  husband  to  her." 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  321 

"Lord  save  ye,  ma'am  !     I  doubt  I  hanna  been  that." 

"  Does  she  now  think  you  make  her  a  bad  one  ?  " 

"  Bless  her  heart,  no  !  my  Betsy  always  thinks  I'll  mend." 

"  Then  she  has  faith." 

"Be  that  it,  surely?" 

"  Yes  ;  and  if  Betsy  has  faith  in  you,  a  weak,  erring  mortal, 
why  art  thou  of  so  little  faith,  O  man,  that  thou  believest  not  in 
the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  forgive  me  !  sure,  that's  true.  Please  his  good- 
ness, I'll  strive  to  mend." 

"  Lotty,  my  dear,"  said  Flo.,  on  i-eturning  home,  "that  man 
is  a  hypocrite,  mark  me." 

"Why,  Flo.?" 

"  He  Avishes  to  get  something  out  of  you,  my  dear,  he  is  so 
ready  to  be  converted." 

"  I  think  not,  Flo.  ;  he  has  had  a  miserable  life  for  the  last 
five  or  six  years.  Within  these  few  months  Margaret  has  given 
him  constant  work,  and  the  change  from  want  and  wickedness 
to  competence,  with  self-respect,  will  have  its  due  effect  upon 
him." 

"  That  is  all  very  fine.  You  will  find  him  spending  all  his 
money  at  the  alehouse,  instead  of  coming  to  church." 

"  Still,  Flo.,  we  shall  have  the  satisfaction  of  thinking  we  did 
our  best  to  reclaim  him." 

"  Poor  satisfaction." 

Flo.  would  not  have  thought  it  such,  with  all  her  flightiness, 
if  she  had  seen  the  meeting  of  Lotty  and  her  friend  at  church 
the  next  Sunday,  and,  indeed,  for  many  a  Sunday  after. 

The  look  of  happiness  in  Lotty's  eyes,  as  she  made  her  gentle 
bow  of  recognition  in  the  church  porch,  called  a  blush  of  pride 
and  pleasure  into  the  rough,  coarse  face  of  that  sinning  man. 
The  rising  blood  came  from  a  heart  on  which  had  fallen  one 
good  seed  of  kindly  sympathy,  and  the  spring,  once  found,  never 
failed. 


CHAPTER    LXX. 

Easter-Tuesday  arrived,  an  important  day  for  Pru.  The 
long,  lingering  attachment  she  had  evinced  for  a  certain  curate, 
was  brought  to  an  abrupt  close,  and  sprouted  up  with  redoubled 


322  MARGARET 

vigor  and  growth  into  an  ardent  affection  for  her  rector  hus- 
band. This  being  the  seventh  marriage  recorded  in  this  book, 
it  fortunately  happened  to  be  unlike  any  of  its  predecessors  in 
more  than  one  respect. 

First,  John  Grey  insisted  upon  everybody  walking  to  church. 
"  For,"  said  he,  "  that  will  alford  Charlotte  time  to  weigh  well 
what  she  is  about  at  the  last  moment." 

Charlotte  proved  her  appreciation  of  his  kind  thought,  by 
walking  more  nimbly  than  usual,  which  occasioned  Lotty  to 
remark,  '*  that  Pru.  seemed  to  fear  he  might  change  his  mind." 

Tru.'s  answer  to  this  unkind  speech  was  alaugh,  which  she 
intended  to  be  scornful  ;  but,  alas  !  she  was  little  gifted  with  the 
necessary  comuKjdily  to  express  such  a  feeling,  consequently  it 
was  such  a  merry  laugh,  John  kissed  her  hand  before  all  the 
company  on  the  spot. 

Secondly,  the  wedding  was  so  quiet,  Pru.  was  nearly  reduced 
to  having  the  parish  clerk  for  a  bridesmaid,  if  Miss  Rachel 
Clare  had  not  kindly  stepped  in  to  the  vacant  responsibility. 
Lotty  did  propose  the  twins,  but  it  seemed  probable  tliat  half 
way  to  church,  the  bride  and  bridegroom  would  have  to  take 
each  a  little  bridesmaid  up  iu  their  arms  and  carry  them  the  rest 
of  the  way. 

The  third  and  last  peculiarity  was,  that  no  smart  chaise  and 
four  came  to  the  door,  with  radiant  and  rubicund-faced  post- 
boys streaming  with  favors  and  primed  Avith  beer.  It  was  the 
bride  and  bridegroom  who  staid  at  home  while  all  the  com- 
pany went  away.  "  For,"  said  good  John  Grey,  "  Mr.  Herbert 
left  his  parish  to  my  care,  and  I  do  not  mean  to  leave  it  until 
he  comes  to  resume  his  duties.  Let  those  who  wish  it,  remain 
and  see  mine  and  my  Pru.'s  happiness.  Those  who  think  such 
a  sigjit  would  overpower  them  can  leave." 

.So  it  fell  out  that  tliey  all  Ici't,  "  thus,"  as  Lotty  remarked, 
"  depriving  themselves  of  all  the  luck  and  advantages  of  having 
old  slioes  thrown  after  the  carriage." 

Lady  Katherine  returned  home  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frank  ; 
Margaret  to  her  mother,  at  Montagu  House,  accompanied  by 
Miss  Rachel ;  Lotty  to  her  own  people,  who  were  impatient  to 
liave  Iht.  So  ]\Ir.  and  Mrs.  Laird  were  the  only  ])eoplc  Avho 
remained  in  tlie  neighljorhood,  and  witnessed  now  and  then  the 
happiness  of  the  newly  married  ;  and  as  they  were  Scotch  peo- 
ple, with  good  strong  nerves,  they  bore  the  sight  with  the  utmost 
composure  and  fortitude. 

In  April,  Basil,  with  his  brothers,  departed  on  his  voyage. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAID9.  323 

His  letters  to  Margaret  were  constant  djiring  the  weeks  he  spent 
hovering  about  that  wild  and  weary  spot,  whose  treacherous 
sands  have  ingulfed  so  many  high  and  noble  hearts,  and  been 
the  dread  of  all  mariners  ever  since  the  history  of  the  world. 

Though  she  had  never  told  them  so,  Lotty  and  Basil  knew 
that  Margaret  clung  to  the  idea  of  recovering  the  body  of  her 
Harold.  It  seemed  but  the  one  thing  wanting,  ere  she  resolutely 
and  forever  submitted  to  her  lot.  If  she  could  visit  some  tomb, 
have  something  which  contained  his  ashes,  and  where  hers  might 
mingle  with  them,  it  would  suffice  for  her  tender  heart.  The 
restless  longing,  the  ever-recin-ring  question,  "  "Was  he  i-cally 
gone  ? "  appeared  but  natural ;  for  her  dead  had  never  been 
removed  from  her  sight.  There  had  been  no  sick  bed,  with  its 
hopes  and  fears,  and  sad  preparation.  No  last  words  to  be 
treasured  up.  No  lifeless  form,  no  touch  of  marble  features  ; 
no  closing  of  beloved  and  loving  eyes,  the  extinction  of  whose 
liilht  darkened  a  livina:  heart  forever.  Death  takes  all  these 
and  much  more  to  force  itself  in  all  the  stern  reality  upon  those 
who  share  but  one  spirit  between  them.  Thus  the  heaviness  of 
the  blow  had,  for  the  first  year  of  her  mourning,  fallen  with 
numbing  effect  upon  her  soul,  in  addition  to  the  gentle  endeavor 
to  spare  the  poor,  conscience-stricken  mother  ;  but  as  the  frame 
recovered  its  elasticity,  so  did  the  feelings  become  more  acute, 
rendering  Margaret  more  restless  and  unhappy  than  she  had 
been  at  all.  Amono;  other  desires  was  a  wish  to  visit  Cowes. 
A  pining  wish  to  tread  in  the  place  his  footsteps  had  last  pressed, 
to  see  the  house  he  had  lived  in,  and  visit  the  last  spots  he  had 
touched  on  earth,  took  possession  of  her.  As  if  divining  all 
Margaret  felt,  Lotty  persuaded  Lady  Katherine  to  propose  a 
visit  to  the  sea-side  for  them  all,  and  as  the  time  settled  for 
Basil's  return  home  was  approaching,  it  seemed  natural  enough 
for  them  all  to  adjourn  to  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

Here,  though  eighteen  months  and  more  had  elapsed  since  the 
tragedy  occurred,  they  were  too  much  the  object  of  interest  to 
escape  notoriety.  So  they  retired  to  Bonchurch,  making  excur- 
sions from  time  to  time  to  visit  the  places  Margaret  wished. 
Lotty  had  expected  her  to  have  this  reaction ;  but  she  knew 
that  when  once  the  dark  fit  had  passed,  Margaret  would  be  for 
the  rest  of  her  lifetime  resigned,  nay,  cheerful. 

Unluckily  for  their  desire  to  be  quiet  and  alone,  the  ever-rest- 
less Mrs.  Bankes  had  seen  in  the  newspapers  the  account  of 
their  arrival  at  Bonchurch  ;  and  she  and  Carry  being  at  that 
time  in  lodgings  together  at  Ryde,  agreed  it  would,  be  no  more 


824  MARGARET 

than  neifrhborly,  and  a  proper  duty  to  their  former  school- 
fello\V!<,  if  they  left  their  gay  quarters  at  Kyde,  and  took  up 
their  abode  near  them. 

To  Carry,  the  change  was  pleasant ;  she  cared  only  for  her 
babies.  To  Flo.,  the  plan  was  advisable  ;  she  wished  to  pursue 
her  designs  on  Lotty's  liberty. 

For  in  truth,  Flo.  and  her  husband  Avere  much  embarrassed, 
as  regarded  pecuniary  matters.  And  having  been  assisted 
several  times  by  old  Mr.  Bankes,  that  gentleman  had  at  last 
become  angry  and  indignant,  flatly  refusing  to  assist  them.  And 
in  addition  to  this  very  uncomfortable  announcement,  he  had 
favored  Mrs.  Frederick  Bankes  with  his  private  idea  of  the 
matter,  openly  declaring  it  was  her  extravagance,  thoughtless- 
ness, and  love  of  dress,  that  was  ruining  his  amiable,  but  not 
over-wise  son.  Flo.  was  never  backward  in  retorting ;  and, 
therefore,  a  scene  ensued,  Avhich  rendei'cd  it  desirable  that  all 
parties  should  separate  for  a  time.  Flo.  thought  it  a  relief  to 
join  even  Carry  at  the  sea-side,  and  was  civil  to  the  babies, 
rather  than  lose  this  haven.  It  Avas,  therefore,  good  ncAvs  to 
know  that  Lotty  Avas  so  near  ;  and  if  she  only  could  persuade 
her  to  live  Avith  them  for  a  few  mouths,  she  felt  certain  of  being 
restored  to  favor  in  her  husband's  family.  They  Avere  good, 
kind-hearted  people,  generous  and  forbearing,  and  by  no  means 
deserving  the  character  Flo.  gave  them. 

But  their  old  schoolfelloAvs  Avere  by  no  means  so  pleased  to 
see  them,  and  thought  of  quitting  the  field  of  action,  Avhen  neAvs 
came  of  the  return  of  the  "  Ripple." 

I'oor  ^largaret  gave  Avay  more  than  she  had  ever  done  before, 
at  this  failure  of  her  last  hope  of  recoA'ering  the  body  of  her 
Harold.  And  they  let  her  surfeit  herself  Avith  her  grief.  Tiiey 
felt  certairt  that  the  remembrance  of  Harold's  last  words  Avould 
soon  return  to  her,  and  the  Avish  to  do  all  he  had  so  fondly 
desired,  Avould  become  her  daily  task. 

Nothing  noAV  A\-as  left  to  her  but  the  hope  of  being  again 
united  t(j  him  in  another  Avorld,  that  hope  he  had  so  ardently 
expressed  himself.  But  she  had  a  great  deal  to  do,  duties  to 
perform,  certain  things  must  be  done,  ere  she  prepared  for  that 
change  Avhicli  Avould  restore  her  once  more,  and  forever,  to  her 
Harold.  She  must  be  up  and  doing  —  no  blot  must  tarnish  the 
brightness  of  that  hour,  no  remembrance  of  tilings  undone,  no  re- 
morse for  time  wasted  ;  she  must  be  able  to  say-  "  I  have  done  all 
that  weak  human  nature  could  do  ;  take  now  lliy  servant  to  rest." 

Basil  and  Lotty  kept  strict  ward  and  Avatch  over  their  Marga- 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  825 

ret,  that  no  Invasion  of  Bankeses  and  Koystons  should  vex  her 
perturbed  spirit  during  the  few  remaining  days  of  their  stay. 

Lotty  never  left  Mrs.  Baukes's  side  for  a  moment  when  calling 
at  their  house,  which  made  that  Avorthy  person  say  to  herself, 
"  How  fond  that  little  thing  is  of  me  !  she  is  a  nice  little  soul, 
too,  and  so  pretty  ;  she  will  make  quite  a  sensation  while  she  is 
with  me." 

Yvniile  Basil  admired  all  Mrs.  Royston's  babies,  and  witnessed 
all  their  various  performances  with  such  interest,  that  she  con- 
fided to  Flo.  :  "  It  was  a  sad  pity  he  was  not  married,  and  had 
children  of  his  own." 

"My  dear,  he  is  going  to  be,"  answered  Flo.,  with  vast 
importance.  "  When  I  was  down  at  Court  Leigh,  the  whole 
matter  was  intrusted  to  me,  but,  of  course,  confidentially,  it 
being  early  yet." 

"But,  dear  Flo.,  you  might  tell  me,"  coaxed  Carry. 

"  Not  for  worlds,"  sternly  answered  Flo.,  charmed  at  per- 
ceiving Carry  interested  about  something  besides  babies,  and 
conceiving  it  her  duty  to  be  inexorable  on  that  account. 

"  It  cannot  be  Lotty,"  said  Carry,  sulkily ;  "  for  though  his 
brothers  brought  her  a  number  of  presents,  he  never  gave  her 
one,  and  hardly  speaks  to  her,  that  I  can  see." 

"  My  dear,  be  patient,  then,  indeed,  you  will  see  what  you 
will  see  ;  but  I  cannot  have  Lotty  flirting  with  those  boys  —  I 
must  speak  to  her.  Presents,  indeed  !  what  business  has  she  to 
be  accepting  presents  from  young  men  ?  —  she  will  get  herself  into 
a  fine  mess." 

"And  I  heard  them  asking  her  for  a  lock  of  hair,  in  return." 

"  True,  so  they  did  ;  but  I  was  glad  to  perceiv^e  that  she  had 
sufficient  discretion  to  refuse  her  own,  though  she  gave  them 
some  of  the  dog's.  Ah,  me  !  I  must  warn  her  —  it  is  but  a  step 
from  Bear's  tail  to  her  head." 

It  need  hardly  be  mentioned,  that  before  long.  Carry  was  in 
full  possession  of  all  Flo.  had  to  tell,  whether  true  or  not ;  the 
love  of  gossiping  being  superior  to  the  wish  of  teasing  Carry. 

On  the  morrow  after  this  conversation,  they  both  agreed  to 
pay  a  long  visit  to  their  old  schoolfellows,  and  spying  out  all 
they  could,  mutually  to  reveal  all  to  each  other,  compare  notes, 
and  draw  their  own  conclusions.  But  the  visit  was  not  paid, 
inasmuch  as  on  their  road  to  the  house  they  met  the  heavy 
travelling  coach  and  four  of  Lady  Eatherine,  well  packed  and 
crammed,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  old  lady,  sitting  bolt 
upright,  as  if  still  in  presence  of  the  gracious  Queen  Charlotte, 
28 


€>-' 


26  MARGARET 

of  the  fair,  sad  face  of  Margaret,  of  Lotty,  and  Lottina,  bo- 
peepiug  at  each  other  for  amusemeut,  evidently  one  and  all 
prepared  for  a  long  journoy. 

"  LaAv  !  "  exclaimed  Flo.,  in  a  tone  of  indignant  disappointment. 

"  Gracious  heavens  !  "  murmured  Carry  ;  ."  young  Sir  liar- 
old  is  outside  !  on  the  box  !  with  the  butler  ! ! !  " 


CHAPTEK    LXXI. 

Trfly  they  were  all  on  their  road  home,  where  they  duly 
arrived,  and  were  welcomed  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grey. 

John  Grey  said,  "  Talk  of  Darby  and  Joan  !  all  I  can  tell 
you  is,  it  would  take  six  Darbies  and  six  Joans  to  equal  mine 
and  my  Pru.'s  happiness."  Mrs.  Laird  came  over  the  next 
morning,  and  kissed  and  blessed  them  all,  as  if  she  had  not  had 
a  moment's  peace  or  happiness  since  they  left. 

"  And  sae  my  Lord's  aff  i'  the  morrow  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mammy  Laird."  said  Lotty,  in  her  glee  and  happiness  ; 
*'  he  has  devoted  himself  Ion":  enough  now  to  Margaret ;  he 
must  go  and  see  afler  his  own  affairs." 

"I  am  thiuking  he  wad  hue  gcttiu  a  bit  business  here  to 
sattle,  my  bairn,  ere  he  went  back." 

"  He  has  no  business  here,  except  to  do  as  you  do,  and  that 
is,  spoil  us." 

"Iloot!  bairn,  it's  my  belief  you  are  come  hame  more  full 
of  mischief  nor  ever,     llae  ye  quarrelled,  hinney?" 

"  Such  a  question  !  just  as  if  any  one  coidd  quarrel  Avith  me." 

"  Diiuia  ye  think  owre  weel  o'  yersel'  :  ay,  but  ye  are  the 
bonuiest  thing.  —  But  I'll  say  nae  mair  :  ouy  just  tell  me,  hae  ye 
and  my  lord  no  hit  it  joost  ?  " 

"  AN  liat  have  you  been  doing,  during  our  absence?  taking  to 
bad  Avays,  I  fear."  1 

"He  no  spaks  a  word  till  ye,  and  he  no  luiks  at  ye,  and  lie 
gangs  nne  way,  when  ye  come  the  lllliir  —  I  diuua  understaud 
it,  bairn." 

'"■  Ask  him,  then,  if  >^oh  are  so  unhappy  ;  perhaps  out  of  kind- 
ness to  you,  he  will  say  for  once,  '  My  dear  Lotty,  1  ho|>e  you 
are  wfdl,'  or  'have  you  walked  to-day?'    or  '  have '  " 

"Bo  dune  wi'  a'  yer  clashing  and  nonsense.     I'll  no  expect 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  827 

ony  sense  out  of  ye,  if  ye  dinua  mind,  my  bonny,  bonny,  dar- 
linof  thino;." 

It  was  of  no  use  to  ask  any  more  questions,  or  to  find  fault ; 
the  very  sight  of  her  made  Mrs.  Laird's  heart  go  pitapat,  as 
if  the  doctor  was  sueing  again  for  her  maiden  hand  ;  she  said, 
"  I'll  aye  scold  her  Aveel,  byes  and  byes,  but  I  am  just  daft 
v.'i'  sight  o'  her  ;  surely  she  is  getting  more  bonny  and  winsome 
every  day." 

"  Now,  Lotty,"  said  Margaret,  "  j'ou  and  I  will  spend  a  good 
and  happy  winter.  AYe  shall  be  alone  ;  Basil  does  not  think  to 
come  near  us  again  vmtil  spring,  and  my  mother  must  not  move 
in  the  winter  :  Lady  Katherine  will  be  with  her  John  Grey.  I 
have  sent  for  a  number  of  books,  and  you  must  read  aloud  to 
me  ;  we  must  break  Master  Harold  into  learning  some  lessons, 
and  then  you  must  help  me  all  about  the  property." 

"  Good  me  !  "  replied  Lotty,  "I  am  very  glad  that  you  have 
ceased  talking.  Except  for  the  voice,  I  thought  it  was  Flo. 
chattering  on." 

Margaret  kissed  her,  smiling,  and  said,  "  Saucy  thing,  Avhy 
may  not  I  chatter  like  others  ?  But  I  wish  to  tell  you  a  good 
thing,  Lotty  :  Messrs.  Moneypenny  have  sent  their  clerk  over 
here,  to  tell  me  another  remittance  has  come  from  Australia  of 
^two  thousand  five  hundred  pounds,  and  with  the  bill  is  a  short 
note,  saying  it  is  to  be  placed  to  my  account ;  and  here  is  the 
note,  Lotty.     It  is  undoubtedly  in  Mr.  Price's  handwriting." 

"It  is  very  like  it,  certainly." 

"See!  I  have  collected  some  old  letters  of  his,  and  it  is 
exactly  the  same.     Now,  is  this  not  a  good  thing,  Lotty  ?  " 

"  For  you,  very.  Queen  Margaret " 

"  For  me  !  Can  you  not  think  how  good  it  is  that  this  man 
repents  ?  No  more  will  my  Harold's  name  be  stained  with  the 
stigma,  that  through  negligence,  ignorance,  or  indolence  he  in- 
cited a  sold  to  sin.  All !  Lotty,  what  is  the  money,  doubled, 
trebled,  in  comparison  to  that  ?  " 

"  Dear  Meg.  !     I  love  you,  and  think  as  you  do." 

"  And  now,  Lotty,  I  may,  with  a  clear  conscience,  raise  a 
monument  to  his  name.  I  mean  no  outward  show,  no  vain 
glorying,  no  pompous  epitaph.  In  my  heart  of  hearts  is  my 
Harold's  name  written,  never  more  to  be  effaced  from  that 
inn'ermost  spot.  But  I  should  like,  Lotty,  in  his  name,  and 
for  his  sake,  to  build  that  little  church.  I  have  money,  for  the 
credit  side  at  Messrs.  Moneypenny's  bank  is  now  in  favor  of  the 
Coiirt  Leigh  estates ;  and  in  gratitude  to  God,  I  may  begin  to 


328  MARGARET 

spend  it  in  his  pervice.  The  schools,  also  !  Indeed  I  have  many 
thinpri'  to  do  before  —  before  " 

"  When,  3Iiir;xaret  ?  " 

"  I  join  my  Harold." 

"  Ah  !  Mariraret,  is  that  the  goal  of  your  desires?  Is  it  this 
idea  that  makes  you  -welcome  each  new  day  Avith  joy,  and  yet 
bless  the  evening  of  each  day  as  a  still  greater  boon?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  this,  only  this !  "  and  locking  her  fair  fingers 
together,  IMargaret's  foce  became  changed.  Lotty  saw,  Avith 
surprise,  that  her  eyes  looked  upwards,  as  if  she  beheld  a  sight 
that  Lotty  could  not  see.  She  appeared  to  think  she  was  alone 
■with  this  viewless  vision,  for  whisperingly  from  her  lips  came 
the  words,  — 

"  Yes,  Harold,  another  year  has  almost  passed  ;  I  am  so  much 
nearer  to  you.  I  will  leave  our  children  well  fitted,  and  of  age 
to  cope  Avith  the  world.  The  name  of  Leigh  shall  be  honored 
and  blessed.     Then,  Harold,  my  Harold,  we  meet  to  part  no 


more." 


As  Lotty  marked  the  Avords,  and  vieAA-ed  the  absorption  of 
IMargarct's  heart,  a  flood  of  liglit  flashed  up  into  her  eyes,  the 
rosy  blood  spread  hither  and  thither,  high  up  on  tlie  snoAvy 
broAv,  and  doAvn  the  little  AAhite  throat ;  brighter,  more  viA'id, 
until  at  last,  Avith  her  face  all  scarlet,  Lotty  glanced  in  a  sort 
of  shame-faced  Avay  at  Mai-garet  —  she  Avas  still  absorbed;  so 
stealing  shyly  aAvay,  Lotty  Avent  off  to  hide  these  emotions,  so 
strange  and  ncAv  to  her,  in  a  coA-ert,  Avhere  not  even  Bear  could 
find  her.  It  Avas  some  hours  ere  they  anet  again  ;  both  AA'cre 
restored  to  their  usual  state  of  mind,  Avliich  in  Lotty  had  con- 
sisted for  some  time  of  a  morose  character.  Very  naughty  and 
unloAable  she  Avas  at  times. 

"  Lotty,  dear !  "  said  Margaret,  "  I  do  not  think  you  bade 
Basil  farcAvell  Avhen  he  Avcnt  aAvay." 

"  No  !  "  said  Lotty,  shortly. 

"  Have  you  tAAO  quarrelled?" 

"  No  !  tliauk  you  ;  tliat  Avould  be  taking  trouble  for  nothing." 

"  There  is  something  not  quite  kind  about  you  at  present,  and 
I  do  not  know  Avhose  fault  it  is." 

"  It  is  a  matter  of  so  little  consequence,  I  Avonder  you  trouble 
your  head  about  it." 

"  Do  you  deem  mc  so  selfish  and  unkind  that  I  sec  nothing, 
CA'cn  Avliijn  it  concerns  my  two  dearest  and  best  friends?  " 

'*  I  inipli»-d  iiolliiiig  of  the  sort,  Margaret  ;  I  hut  iusiiuiated  it 
was  of  no  iiiomeut  Avhelhcr  Basil  and  1  were  friends  or  not." 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  329 

"  Ah  !  I  have  suspected  something  was  the  matter  for  some 
time.  He  never  writes  to  you  now,  or  sends  you  little  loving 
messages,  and  even  calls  you  Mrs.  Leigh." 

"  And  very  proper  too.  It  is  high  time  he  should  remember 
that  I  am  not  little  Lotty." 

"  If  his  conduct  pleases  you,  little,  wilfiiL  Lotty,  then  must  I 
be  satisfied?     But  I  had  a  wish,  a  fond  wish " 

"  Which  you  had  better  scatter  to  the  four  winds  at  once," 
interrupted  the  little  Bear,  Lotty. 

^  7^  r^  T^  ^  ^ 

So  they  passed  a  busy  and  quiet  winter,  during  which  a  faint 
bloom  rose  in  Margaret's  cheeks,  that  the  sharp  winter  blasts 
sometimes  deepened  into  a  glow. 

Gerald  had  b^eeu  written  to  about  the  new  church,  and  had 
sent  his  cordial  consent  and  approbation,  Avelcoming,  as  much  as 
his  parishioners  did,  the  idea  of  keeping  Mr.  Grey  among  them. 

Lotty  insisted  upon  endowing  the  new  church  when  com- 
pleted, for  it  would  benefit  the  estate  of  High  Leigh  more  than 
any  other  place.  "  Besides,"  said  she,  "  it  is  Philip's  legacy  — 
his  memorial  tablet." 

"  Ech,  bairn  !  it's  wonderfu'  the  rock  o'  sense  in  that  wee 
head.  I  Avad  like  to  see  ye  do  something  joost  no  canny,  or  by 
ordinar  foolish,"  said  Mrs.  Laird. 

"  Bear  shall  pull  Cowslip's  tail.     Will  that  do  ?  " 

"  Hoot,  awa  !  at  aye  time.  Miss  Rachel,  she's  no  canny,  this 
bairn." 

"  Canny  or  not,  Mi*s.  Laird,  we  cannot  help  loving  her,"  said 
Miss  Rachel. 

"  And  sae  Mistress  Herbert's  to  the  fore  agin,  and  they'll  be 
hame  the  next  summer." 

"  Yes.  She  is  growing  strong,  well,  and  fat ;  so  it  will  be  an 
encouragement  to  us  to  go  when  we  are  miserable  and  thin," 
said  Lotty. 

"My  certie !  when  will  we  see  thon?  though  I'm  speering 
you're  no  that  weel,  my  bairn." 

"  I  have  thought  so  for  some  time,  Mrs.  Laird,"  said  Mar- 
garet, just  coming  up.  "  I  think  she  pores  over  those  learned 
books  too  much,  and  that  makes  her " 

"  Cross  !  "  interrupted  Lotty. 

"  Nay,  nay,"  continued  Margaret ;  "but  I  have  come  to  make 
a  proposal  —  shall  we  not  have  the  first  stone  of  the  new  church 
laid  next  Tuesday,  the  fourteenth  of  February  ?  " 

"  No.     I  wiU  not  have  it  so,"  said  Lotty. 
28* 


330  MARGARET 

"  Why,  my  Lotty,  it  seems  to  me,  after  being  dead  for  two  cr 
three  year?,  the  little  Bear  has  come  to  life  again,"  answered 
Margaret,  in  surprise.  * 

"  Then  that  is  an  additional  reason  the  beginning  of  so  good 
a  deed  should  not  commence  on  such  an  evil  day." 

"  The  little  Boar  has  returned  without  any  doubt.  Ah,  Pru.  ! 
you  are  ju^t  in  time,"  continued  Margaret.  "  AVould  you  believe 
it?  Lotty  is  cross." 

"  O  !  pray  excuse  me,  dear  IVIargaret,  but  I  cannot  believe  it; 
neither,  I  am  sure,  will  John,"  said  Mrs.  Grey. 

"  Nay,  judge  lor  yourself.  She  will  not  suffer  the  first  stone 
of  the  new  church  to  be  laid  upon  her  birthday." 

'■  O  I  "  exclaimed  Pru.,  Avilh  great  animation,  "  it  must,  it 
shall !  —  and  it  is  a  most  cvirious  circumstance,  John  and  mamma 
settled  it  on  that  very  day  too." 

"  Then  that  decides  it,  best  Lotty  ;  so,  kiss  me,  and  say  you 
are  a  good  girl,  and  Avill  never  be  so  naughty  again," 

"  Take  the  kiss  if  you  wish  it,  Margaret ;  but  as  for  the 
promise,  I  cannot  give  it." 

"  Now,  is  she  not  a  little  Bear  ?  "  said  IMargarct,  turning  to  Pru. 

Pru.  was  all  anxiety  to  know  if  she  was  quite  well.  The 
cholera  had  brokeu  out  in  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  and  she  much 
feared  there  was  a  bad,  infectious  air  about.  To  which  kind 
concern  for  her  health,  Lotty  only  replied  by  throwing  up  the 
window  on*  that  cold  Avinter  day,  and  walking  straight  into  the 
supposed  bad  air.  But  the  clear,  bracing  atmosphere  blew 
away  her  crossness,  and  when,  iu  the  afternoon,  she  and  Mar- 
garet met  Dr.  Laird,  after  their  brisk  walk  of  three  miles,  their 
bloominjj  looks  called  forth  his  hij^hcst  encomiums. 

"  That's  the  way,  ladies,  that's  the  way  to  cheat  your  doctor. 
"Walk  like  that  every  day  of  your  lives,  never  mind  a  driving 
sleet  shower  or  a  snuirt  brush  of  hail,  as  I  see  you  have  not  to- 
day, and  you  will  live,  with  God's  blessing,  the  allotted  portion 
of  mail's  life,  hale  and  vigorous  to  the  close." 

"  Ech,  doctor  !  I  dinna  ken  which  is  bonniest  o'  them  twa. 
I  thought  there  was  nae  rosebud  like  our  little  leddy  of  High 
Leigh,  but,  with  the  color  in  her  cheek,  and  the  hap])y  light  in 
her  eyes,  the  Leddy  Leigh  is  a  picture  o'  beauty,"  said  Mrs. 
Laird  in  conlidciH-e  to  her  husband  that  evening. 

"  I  never  saw  tuo  like  them,  .lanet ;  and  to  think  that  they 
should  be  widows,  ])f)or  vouug  things,  both  on  tliem  !  " 

''  Tiu-y  wiuna  be  that  laiig,  doctor,  1  am  thiidiing.  I\Iy  l^ord 
Erlscourt  kens  us  weel  as  we  do,  they  are  no  to  be  matched." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  331 

"  Hoot,  woman  !  do  you  mean  to  make  a  Turk  of  my  Lord? 

—  he  canna  marry  both." 

"  Ye  needn't  fleech  at  me,  Alick  ;  I  kens  what  I  kens.  I'm 
a  Scotchwoman,  and  we  are  no  given  to  luve  twice.  My  Leddy 
Leigh  is  my  Leddy  Leigh,  and  I'll  sae  nae  mair  nor  nae  less." 

"'^You  think  she  will  bide  so.  "Weel,  may  be  ;  but,  oneyways, 
Mrs.  Leigh  has  had  nae  sich  heart-grief.  If  my  Lord  fancies  her, 
may  be  she'll  no  objec." 

"  Fancies  her  !  ech,  fancies  her  !  —  and  ye  ca'  yersei'  a  man 
o'  pairts,  Alick  !  " 

"  Come,  Janet,  don't  flyte  out  at  me  like  that.  I'll  agree  that 
I  am  no  so  sharp  as  you  in  luve  matters,  if  that  wuU  content  ye." 

"  I  kenned  that  owre  weel  afore,  man.     Fancies  her,  indeed  ! 

—  Gang  yer  ways  and  get  a  pipe,  doctor,  to  compose  ye,  for  yer 
very  aggravating  this  afternoon." 

The  doctor  laughed,  and  contentedly  departed  to  obey  her  in- 
junctions. So  the  thirteenth  of  February  came,  and  all  was 
prepared  for  the  next  day's  ceremony. 

"  There  is  a  letter  from  Basil,  and  he  says  nothing  about 
coming  to-morrow,"  said  Margaret,  in  a  disappointed  tone. 

"  Then  I  suppose  he  will  not  come,"  answered  Lotty. 

"  He  sends  no  message  to  you,  Lotty." 

"  I  did  not  expect  one,  Meg." 

*'  But  he  asks  after  Bear." 

*'  You  can  tell  him  he  has  two  gray  hairs  in  his  tail." 

"  Lotty  !  Lotty  !  —  but  perhaps  he  has  written  to  you  ?  " 

"  To  me  !  —  wherefore  ?  " 

"  To  tell  you  Brian  is  going  to  Oxford,  and  Hugh  insists  upon 
becoming  a  civil  engineer." 

"  That  boy  was  always  examining  the  interior  of  steam- 
engines,  and  pulled  everything  to  pieces,  only  to  find  out  how  it 
was  made." 

"  They  both  send  their  love  to  you,  Lotty,  but  Basil  must  have 
forgotten  his." 

"  As  I  expected  none  from  him,  I  am  not  disappointed." 

Margaret  tried  to  read  the  little  Bear's  imperturbable  counte- 
nance in  vain. 

That  night  Lotty  was  again  absorbed  in  thought  ere  she 
went  to  bed,  and  the  great  Bear  had  to  touch  her  more  than 
once. 

"  Yes,  Bear,  I  know.  But  we  are  in  a  difficult  position. 
Another  year,  if  not  two,  must  pass.  We  cannot  tell  what  time 
may  do.     Bear  and  Lotty  are  not  to  do  anything  that  they  may 


332  MARGARET 

hereafter  repent.  Our  Margaret  is  so  mnch  better,  so  much 
more  cbeerl'ul,  and  slie  has  so  many  cares,  requiring  a  man's 
help.  It  may  turn  out  to  be  a  necessary  good,  an  absohite  want. 
Tbough  we  are  young,  and  supposed  to  be  not  over  wise,  we 
have  had  our  experiences.  Bear ;  and  thus  we  have  reason  to 
think  that  cluiuges  ahnost  as  startling  as  the  Ethiop  cliangir.g 
bis  skin,  and  the  leopard  his  spots,  might  occur,  and  do  occur,  in 
this  gray,  hoary -headed,  venerable  old  world.  And  Avbat  a  silly, 
foolish,  childish,  not  to  say  wicked,  world  it  is  sometimes ! 
However,  we  cannot  mend  it ;  we  can  only  do  our  duty  ;  and 
if  Lotty  loves  Bear,  and  Bear  loves  Lotty,  1  dare  say,  wliatever 
occurs,  they  will  make  themselves  happy,"  Bear  kissed  Lotty 
after  canine  fashion,  in  token  of  perfect  agreement  in  all  she 
said ;  and  then  Lotty  passed  with  noiseless  footfall  into  the 
sleeping  apartment  she  shared  Avith  INIargaret, 

The  sound  of  a  low  voice  made  her  pause  on  the  threshold. 
Again  were  the  fair  fingers  laced  together,  the  upturned  face 
and  inspired  eyes  beholding  a  vision  Lotty  could  not  see,  and 
from  the  parted  lips  came  Margaret's  words,  speaking  to  her 
Harold,  If  possible,  more  fervent,  more  urgent,  more  exalted 
than  before  were  her  looks  and  words,  making  Lotty  blush 
again  with  a  vivid  brightness.     But  she  whispered  to  herself, — 

"  It  matters  not,  8be  mourns  her  Harold  as  deeply  as  if  she 
lost  him  yesterday.     But  wait  we  will,  Bear." 


CHAPTER    LXXII. 

Tins  Valentine's-day  rose  dark,  stormy,  and  snow-ridden. 
As  Lottv  peeped  out  of  the  Avindow,  the  light  of  the  candle  by 
whicli  slie  was  dressing  made  everything  appear  as  if  still 
wrapped  in  the  gloom  of  a  gusty  night. 

"  Heed  it  not  Bear,  we  have  been  out  in  darker,  more  stormy 
mornings  than  this;  we  will  go  into  the  cedar  walk,  until  tbe 
day  speaks  out  a  little  stronger.  But  after  all.  Bear,  1  do  not 
think  it  is  so  bad  —  the  candle  deceived  us." 

As  she  s])()ko,  she  opened  the  door  and  passed  out.  A  band 
stayed  her,  and  a  voice,  low  but  thrilliug,  said,  as  if  it  asked  a 
momentous  question, — 

"  Ih  iliis  my  Lotty?" 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  333 

"  No,  it  is  Mrs.  Leigh,"  answered  she,  with  somewhat  of  the 
freezing  morning  in  her  tone. 

"  I  hope  Mrs.  Leigh  is  quite  well,"  answered  Basil,  taking 
off  his  hat,  and  bowing  with  such  extreme  politeness,  that  a 
flock  of  little  mad  snow  flakes,  driven  by  the  freaks  of  the  wind, 
clutched  hold  of  his  fair  curls  to  save  themselves  a  further  flight, 
and  in  their  refuge  found  their  death. 

"  Quite  well,  thank  you,  Basil ;  and  so  is  Margaret." 

"  Lotty,  I  must  walk  with  you,"  exclaimed  Basil ;  his  assumed 
manner  vanishing. 

"  Pray  do,"  answered  she. 

He  drew  her  arm  Avithin  his,  and  they  passed  on  to  the  cedar 
walk. 

"  And  so,  Lotty,  I  am  to  have  no  better  comfort  than  this,  for 
acting  the  part  of  a  dissembler,  a  hypocrite,  the  past  year?  " 

"  Hypocrite  !   how  so  ?  " 

"  Oijliged  to  smother  my  real  feelings,  hide  my  heart's 
wish,  affect  a  coolness,  that  only  created  a  still  more  burning 
love " 

"  Don't  be  absurd,  Basil !  I  will  alloAv  you  have  been  very 
good  —  in  fact,  nothing  could  have  succeeded  better.  Margaret 
imagines  we  do  not  care  one  straw  for  each  other." 

"  We  !  thank  you,  Lotty  ;  if  I  can  persuade  you  to  grant  me 
no  more,  I  can  live  upon  that  '  we '  for  some  time.'-' 

"  It  was  a  slip,  Basil." 

"  'Twas  said ;  nothing  can  drive  it  from  the  place  where 
memory  has  placed  it.  Now,  Lotty,  answer  me  truly.  Can 
you  yet  so  wilfully  deceive  yourself  as  to  think  Margaret  would 
marry  again  ?  " 

"  Not  at  present,  certainly,"  answered  Lotty,  blushing  again, 
at  the  remembrance  of  Margaret's  constancy  to  the  dead. 

"  And  pray,  how  long  will  it  take  to  convince  you?" 

*'  I  won't  be  bullied.  Lord  Erlscourt." 

"  I  feel  very  much  inclined  to  take  you  in  my  arms  and  carry 
you  off,  you  are  so  very  Avilful,"  said  he.  "  You  were  forced  to 
marry  once " 

"  For  shame,  Basil !  Take  example  by  that  marriage  ;  if  you 
want  me  to  love  you,  abide  my  OAvn  time." 

"  Concession  the  second.  Thanks,  Lotty ;  remember,  if  I 
seem  impatient,  the  prize  I  am  trying  for,  and  the  utter  unrea- 
sonableness of  your  ideas." 

"  AYait  until  I  have  proved  them  such." 

"  I  suppose,"  continued  he,  "that  you  know,  when  Millicent 
returns,  Miss  Rachel  is  going  to  live  with  Margaret." 


334  MARGARET 

"  No,  I  did  not.     "Who  arranged  this?" 

"  I  did  ;  and  that  is  the  reason  I  prevented  her  applying  for 
the  governess's  place  at  the  school  in  Warrington.  8he  shall  be 
governess  to  young  Harold  and  his  sister,  and  Margaret's  com- 
panion." 

"  I  am  Margaret's  companion." 

"  Yes,  at  present,  and  ^o  is  her  mother.  But,  by-and-by,  when 
God  calls  Lady  Montagu  to  the  home  not  made  l)y  hands,  for 
■wliich  she  is  so  fitted,  and  a  certain  "wiltul  Lotty  may  plead 
Margaret's  lonely  state  as  a  reason  for  driving  a  faithful,  loving 
heart  to  despair,  Miss  Rachel  will  step  in  as  the  panacea  to  so 
much  Avoo." 

"  Men  are  so  selfish,"  ansAvered  she. 

"  In  matters  of  the  heart,  Lotty,  they  ought  to  be,  from  justice 
to  tlie  merits  of  her  they  love.  For  my  part,  such  is  my  opinion 
of  the  love  that  an  honest  and  true  heart  should  offer  to  another 
heart  worthy  of  it,  all  the  world  must  be  as  a  grain  of  sand  in 
comparison.  When  I  am  permitted  to  show  my  love,  but  tlie 
God  Avho  made  her,  and  gave  to  me  the  priceless  boon  of  her 
affections,  shall  have  my  adoration  before  her." 

"  All  that  sounds  remarkably  fine  ;  keep  it  for  a  fitting  occa- 
sion. Meantime,  without  much  conceit,  let  me  tell  you,  Lotty 
is  Lotty  to  Margaret.     No  Kachel  will  take  her  place." 

"  That  is  true  ;  in  fact,  though  there  is  a  wilful  Lotty,  a  spoiled 
one,  a  childish  one,  a  cruel,  merciless,  aggravating  one,  yet  is 
there  but  one  Lotty  in  the  world,  and  she  is  matchless.  Now 
do  not  turn  away.  I  want  to  tell  you,  that  it  is  as  nuich  for 
Margaret's  sake,  as  for  any  selfish  motive  of  my  own,  that  I 
have  coimselled  her  to  offer  Miss  Rachel  u  permanent  home." 

"  AVherefore  ?  " 

"  For  this  reason.  There  is  between  these  two  women  a  bond 
so  peculiar,  that  it  may  be  said  to  have  been  riveted  together 
with  the  scalding  tears  of  bitter  agony,  and  therefore  no  human 
forge  can  sever  tlie  links.  As  Harold  and  the  Ifttle  sister  sank 
together,  hand  in  hand,  leaving  their  earthly  frames  a  prey  to 
the  remorseless  sea,  while  their  purified  spirits  rose  at  the  same 
moment  to  the  footstool  of  God  ;  so  will  these  two  mourning, 
but  resigned  hearts,  go  hand  in  hand  through  the  world,  each 
feeling  that  they  are  to  be  to  the  other  a  substitute  for  those  they 
have  lost  ;  each  hoping  to  assist  each  other  during  the  weary 
time  they  must  wait  God's  pleasure.  Tims,  Lotly,  this  bond 
between  Margaret  and  Raclul  in  no  one  way  affects  her  love  for 
you.     You  will  still  be  the  bright  spirit  that  will  enliven  her,  tho 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  335 

link  that  will  keep  her  feelings  young,  the  happy  medium  through 
Avhicli  light  and  flowers  may  yet  bloom  in  her  path.  But  Rachel 
—  the  sight  of  Rachel  stirs  her  up,  to  be  about  and  do  the  work 
allotted  her  —  Rachel,  whose  little  sister  died  a  cruel  death,  her 
hand  clasped  in  that  of  Margaret's  Harold,  without  a  murmur." 

"  I  will  never  leave  Margaret  as  long  as  she  requires  me." 

"And  I  will  never  ask  you  to  do  so  while  that  is  the  case. 
But,  Lotty,  say  something  kind  to  me,  give  me  a  little  hope  ;  a 
Avord,  nay,  a  look  ;  anything  on  which  to  think,  on  which,  when 
I  grow  very  impatient,  I  may  ponder,  and  be  content." 

"Well,  then,  I  think  —  yes,  I  am  sure  —  I  like  you  better 
than  Flo.'s  red-haired  cousin." 

"  Out  on  you,  for  the  smallest  yet  most  pungent  morsel  of 
cruelty  ever  man  met !  " 

"  Flo.  is  very  generous  in  her  proffers  of  friendship  and  hos- 
pitality. I  get  a  letter  once  a  month,  asking  me  to  go  and  live 
■with  her  and  dear  Fred." 

"  Pray  go,  if  you  wish  it,"  uttered  Basil,  resigning  her  arm. 

"  By-the-by,  Basil,  do  take  care,  if  we  go  to  the  sea-side  this 
summer,  that  it  is  in  some  remote  corner  of  the  coast,  where  we 
cannot  possibly  be  disco\"ered  by  Carry  and  Flo.  —  But,  O  !  ye 
stars,  if  Margaret  is  not  tapping  at  the  window.  How  could 
yoa  suffer  me  to  be  late  for  breakfast,  Basil  ?  " 

Basil  was  in  no  mood  to  respond,  so  he  went  in  to  greet  Mar- 
garet, while  Lotty  ran  up  stairs  to  change  her  things.  When 
she  reappeared,  so  fresh  and  blooming,  with  a  sad  wicked  spirit 
of  mischief  dancing  in  her  eyes,  Margaret  met  her  with  very 
inquisitive  looks,  saying,  eagerly,  "  So  you  have  been  Avalking 
with  Basil?" 

"  No,"  said  Lotty,  "  he  walked  with  me." 

Margaret  gazed  from  one  to  the  other,  in  a  little  sort  of  flush 
of  expectation  ;  but  Basil  was  calmly  cutting  a  loaf  of  bread, 
and  Lotty  said,  "  Lady  Montagu,  here  are  two  violets." 

"  I  said,  you  would  be  sure  to  come  to-day,  Basil,"  began 
Margaret ;  "  not  only  because  we  are  to  lay  the  first  stone  of 
the  new  church,  but  because  of  Lotty's  birthday." 

"Is  it  your  birthday,  Mrs.  Leigh?"  said  Basil,  with  an 
assumption  of  indifference,  that  would  have  done  honor  to  a 
Spartan,  while  he  helped  himself  to  an  egg  with  the  utmost 
solicitude. 

"  I  believe  so,"  answered  Lotty,  in  a  tone  to  match. 

"  I  have  to  beg  your  pardon  for  bringing  you  no  offering 
suitable  to  the  day,"  continued  he,  most  wickedly ;  for  all  the 


336  MARGARET 

time  he  had  n  cortain  parcel  in  his  pocket,  that  was  to  have  been 

given,  if ,     A  frown  passed  over  his  fair  brow  as  this  if 

intruded  itself. 

"  I  will  endeavor  to  survive  without,"  retorted  Lotty. 

"  Do  you  know  you  tease  me  very  much,  you  two,"  said  Mar- 
garet. '*  Did  you  not  always  think,  mamma,  that  they  were 
such  friends?  " 

"  The  quarrels  of  friends  are  the  renewal  of  love,  my  dear," 
paid  L.idy  Montajru,  quoting  the  proverb,  for  no  particular  idea 
that  it  was  at  all  applicable. 

Lotty  grew  crimson.  Basil  glanced  at  her,  and  said,  with  the 
utmost  composure,  "  I  think,  Mrs.  Leigh,  you  and  I  have  not 
arrived  at  that  point  of  interest,  in  which  a  quarrel  might  be 
said  to  attoct  us,  either  in  love  or  malice." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  quarrel  with  you,  Basil,"  answered  Lotty, 
recovering  herself,  "  and  beg  to  announce  the  lault  will  be 
yours,  not  mine,  if  we  do." 

But  in  the  course  of  the  day  she  took  occasion  to  whisper, 
"  That  was  very  well  done  on  your  part,  Basil."  And  so  he 
departed  the  next  day,  with  only  that  crumb  of  comfort,  after 
assisting  at  the  laying  of  the  first  stone  of  the  church. 

The  day  had  proved  fair,  in  spite  of  its  stormy  commence- 
ment ;  and  no  heart  assisted  at  the  good  deed,  Avhich  did  not  feel 
a  solemn  compact  avus  made  by  Lady  Leigh,  that  this  church 
was  but  the  beginning  of  many  good  works,  which  she  meant  to 
rear  in  memory  to  her  Harold.  AVithin  this  house  of  prayer, 
she  would  pray  for  strength  to  ''  do  justly,  love  mercy,  and  walk 
humbly  with  her  God." 


CHAPTER    LXXIIl. 

Happt  was  the  life  at  Rose  Leigh.  John  Grey  had  been  so 
charmed  with  the  name  of  Pru.,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doubling 
it.  It  was  delightful  to  see  the  enjoyment  of  Lady  Katherine  ; 
exjierii'iicing,  for  the  first  time,  the  happiness  of  a  real  home, 
mishucklcd  by  forms  and  ceremonies. 

And  as  if  to  make  amends  to  the  world  in  general,  and  to  her 
dcpfudants  in  particular,  for  the  stately  reserve  she  had  formerly 
kept  up,  hhe  now  opened  her  heart  to  everybody  who  would 
take  the  trouble  of  libteuiug  to  her.     We  have  seen  that  she  was 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  837 

fond  of  talking  at  all  times,  thougli  she  would  in  eai'lier  days 
talk  only  to  those  she  deemed  her  equals. 

Now  it  was  very  different ;  she  had  learned  to  consider  herself 
but  another  morsel  of  dust,  distinguished  from  countless  others 
by  little  that  was  good,  and  more  that  was  bad  and  unchristian- 
like.  At  least,  such  was  her  humble  judgment  of  herself, 
without  ever  losing  the  impression  that  she  had  lost  her  sou 
through  her  own  pride  and  folly ;  she  yet  only  used  this  remem- 
brance as  a  spur  to  make  her  more  kind,  more  humble,  more 
charitable  to  every  one. 

Under  a  stern  and  severe  disciplinarian  she  would  have  become 
a  rigid  and  penance-seeking  devotee.  Under  the  gentle,  Avholesome 
doctrine  of  John  Grey,  she  was  being  born  again,  receiving  the 
sweet  spirit  of  a  little  child.  Even  her  countenance,  her  speech, 
the  very  rustle  of  her  stiff  silk  dresses,  showed  the  change. 
Who  could  have  recognized  the  Lady  Katherine  of  six  years 
before?  Never  with  any  pretensions  to  beauty,  yet  with  no 
particular  bad  feature,  her  appearance  had  been  always  rather 
forbidding  from  her  expression  of  pride.  Cold  and  stately,  she 
never  unbent ;  severe  and  harsh  upon  little  minor  faults,  more 
the  result  of  habit  than  opinion,  the  eye  that  met  hers  trembled 
to  think  how  she  would  visit  sins  and  omissions,  without  being 
aware  she  had  been  taught  to  consider  these  minor  faults  as 
heinous  crimes. 

Always  painfully  erect,  and  .always  giving  voice  to  equally 
painful  maxims,  at  the  time  Avhen  this  story  commences.  Lady 
Katherine  could  not  have  pointed  out  a  single  person  who  loved 
her,  out  of  her  own  circle  ;  and  within  that,  to  the  very  centre, 
not  one  who  did  not  fear  her.  In  addition  to  her  harsh  and 
unloving  countenance,  she  had  a  very  austere  way  of  dressing : 
with  marked  features  and  strong  lines,  she  did  not  permit  her 
own  gray  hair  to  mellow  down  the  ravages  of  time  by  its  soft- 
ening influence  on  each  side  of  her  face,  but  had  a  wig  of  very 
shining  black  hair,  that  divided  itself  into  straight  black  lines 
on  her  brown  and  wi'inkled  forehead,  and  then  rolled  itself,  or 
was  rolled,  into  three  great  curls,  that  for  smoothness  and  com- 
pactness of  shape,  could  be  compared  to  nothing  either  elegant 
or  graceful.  Then  her  dresses  were  all  so  remarkably  stiff  and 
uncompromising,  both  in  color  and  texture,  that  it  was  sufficient 
to  hear  them  rustle  to  make  her  servants  and  children  fly.  But 
now  the  black  wig  was  gone,  and  the  smooth  bands  of  soft,  sil- 
ver hair  came  low  on  her  faded  cheek,  with  the  edo'ino-  of  rich 
lace  all  round,  making  the  withered  face  look  fresh  and  comely 
29 


338  MARGARET 

■with  so  fair  a  frame.  And  the  gentle,  pleased  expression  that 
had  taken  tlie  phu-e  of  the  cold,  luirsh  air,  did  it  not  tell  more 
than  words  can  describe,  that  the  sweet  incense  of  a  Christian 
heart  was  implanted  within  that  erect  frame  ;  a  warm-hearted, 
childlike  spirit  now  dwelt  where  only  stately  propriety  had 
ruled? 

It  was  remarkable  that,  whereas  she  had  always  found  fault 
before,  now  she  was  always  in  a  general  buzz  of  praise.  Every- 
body was  so  kind,  everybody  was  so  thoughtful,  everybody 
seemed  always  to  be  doing  just  Avhat  Avas  most  proper  towards 
everybody.  Not  the  lowest  servant  about  the  place,  not  the 
meanest  beggar  she  ever  saw,  not  the  smallest  child  she  met, 
but  she  addressed.  Then  Avould  she  dilate  in  the  twilight 
evenings  upon  all  he  said,  and  she  said,  and  they  said,  and  John 
Grey  would  make  comments  thereon,  Avhilc  l*ru.  listened  and 
hemmed  small  frills.  Thus  they  spent  pleasant  evenings,  and 
the  old  lady's  heart  bloomed  and  expanded  under  this  new  and 
exciting  species  of  life  —  at  least,  it  was  such  to  her  Avho  had 
been  dead  and  cold  before.  This  evening  they  had  a  great  deal 
to  talk  about. 

It  was  in  this  manner  these  three  people  lived  together  ;  and 
no  wonder,  with  two  such  loving,  innocent,  simple  companions, 
John  Grey  had  all  his  own  way,  and  twisted  and  turned  them 
round  in  the  most  heai'tlcss  manner. 

Suddenly  a  rival  entered  the  peaceful  home  ;  but  John  Grey, 
all  unconsfious  of  the  hold  he  would  gain  over  his  Pru.-Pru.'s 
heart,  welcomed  his  sou  with  the  greatest  delight,  while  every- 
body who  came  to  see  the  little  stranger,  exclaimed,  "  John 
Grey,"  so  quaintly  and  curiously  like  his  father  was  he.  As  he 
sat  by  his  pale  wife's  bedside  reading  the  Holy  Scripture  words 
to  her,  lie  could  not  but  notice  how  her  eyes  dwelt  fondly  on  this 
little  image  of  himself.  So  kneeling  down  by  the  bedside,  in 
a  soft  wjiispev,  that  she  only  could  hear,  he  said,  — 

'•  I  thank  Thee,  O  Father,  for  this  new  mercy  ;  for  sparing 
the  life  more  dear  to  me  than  my  own  ;  for  giving  us  another  to 
bring  up  to  thy  service.     And  let  the  image  she  has  so  faith-l 
fully   given  him,  be   a  new    impulse  to  me   to   cherish  and   be 
gi-ateful  f(»r  such  love  as  hers." 

The  next  event  was  Lotty's  return  home  from  visiting  her 
pcnple,  bringing  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frank  and  the  twins  with  her, 
and  tliey  were,  like  every  one  else,  truly  surprised  and  amazed 
at  young  John  Grey. 

So  the  summer  came  on  ;  and  as  it  passed  away,  IMargaret 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  339 

caught  herself  wishing  that  the  long  days  were  longer  still,  she 
had  so  much  to  do  :  the  education  of  her  children,  the  care  of 
her  mother,  the  ordering  of  her  household ;  each  and  all  were 
done,  as  if  each  were  but  the  sole  business  she  had.  And  joined 
to  all  these  was  the  well-doing  of  her  large  estate,  in  which  not 
even  the  cutting  down  of  a  tree  occurred  without  her  knowledge. 

As  autumn  approached,  they  had  the  prospect  before  them 
of  welcoming  home  the  long  absent  Millicent  and  Gerald.  It 
was  on  a  calm  soft  evening  in  October,  that  Margaret  was 
under  the  walnut  avenue,  waiting  the  glad  sight  of  their  car- 
riage. Two  other  figures  were  strolling  up  the  avenue  as  well, 
from  whom  came  many  a  mirthful  sound,  and  laughter  such  as 
rings  from  little  silver  bells  in  a  sunshiny  heart. 

"  How  merry  my  little  Lotty  is  !  "  thought  Margaret,  as  the 
sounds  rose  up  clear  in  the  silent  air,  pealing  up  into  the  arches 
of  the  fine  old  trees.  "  And  I — I  am  happy  also  ;  yes,  truly  ! 
I  bless  God  for  my  life  of  calm  repose,  yet  never-ceasing  em- 
ployment. Perhaps  no  rapturous  delight  is  mine  ;  but  then  in 
tumultuous  overflowing  joy  there  must  ever  be  reaction.  We 
pay  in  some  measure  for  an  overplus.  Life  must  be  consistent ; 
an  even  quantity  of  joy  and  sorrow,  feasting  and  mourning,  is 
allotted  to  each  of  us,  if  we  would  but  see  it.  I  must  be  —  I 
am  grateful  to  thee,  O  God  !  " 

"  Margaret,  Margaret,  they  are  coming !  we  see  the  car- 
riage !  "  exclaimed  Lotty. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  arrived.  They  were  in  each  other's 
arms.  "Warm,  Avelcome  kisses  were  given  and  exchanged.  The 
length  of  their  absence  seemed  atoned  for  by  the  delight  of  their 
return. 

****** 

How  much  they  had  to  tell,  to  see,  to  rejoice  at —  how  much 
to  listen  to,  of  the  life  and  Avelfare  of  those  they  loved  so  well. 
Millicent  was  stronger  and  better  than  ever  she  had  felt  before, 
and  showed  her  two  little  ones  with  pride  and  delight.  A  grave 
sorrow  was  in  Gerald's  eyes  ;  it  seemed  habitual  there  ;  but  a 
gentle  smile  illumiaed  his  face,  with  an  expression  they  remem- 
bered not  in  him.     It  was  full  of  love  and  humility. 

"  Lotty  !  Margaret  is  almost  like  her  old  self,"  said  Milly,  in 
one  of  the  numerous  confidences  that  were  taking  place  among 
thena  all. 

"Yes;  is  she  not?  I  look  forward  to  the  time  when  my 
earliest  thought  or  day-dream  will  be  realized."  answered  Lotty. 

"  What  is  that,  Lotty  ?  " 


840  MARGARET 

"  You  know  it :  at  least,  if  you  remembpr  the  green-liOTise  at 
Montagu  lliiU,  the  rooks  going  home  to  their  dinner,  the  old 
Forest  home." 

'*  1  remember  all  this,  and  say,  Basil.  But  still  I  cannot 
guess  what  you  mean." 

"  You  and  ^Margaret  must  be  sisters,  indeed." 

"  Ah  !  Lotty,  1  see  it  is  true  Avhat  Margaret  says  :  you  are 
changed." 

"  In  what  way?" 

"  You  nuist  be  changed,  if  you  tliiuk  INIargaret  would 

nay,  I  Avill  not  say  it  ;  much  as  I  honor  and  love  my  brother, 
higldy  as  I  venerate  and  esteem  such  a  character,  I  trust  he  will 
never  cast  a  blot  upon  it,  by  seeking  to  marry  Margaret.  Tell  me, 
Lotty,  surely  no  such  thought  has  stained  his  upright  mind?  " 

'•Pray,  why  should  it  not?  Avhat  could  be  more  natural,  lov- 
ing her  as  he  did  from  her  childhood  ?  " 

"But,  ]Margaret,  our  Queen  Margaret!  faidtless  in  all  things, 
she  will  never  —  no,  I  will  not  believe  it,  and  I  wish  I  had  de- 
layed my  return  home,  if  Basil  intends " 

"  Don't  worry  yourself.  Basil  is  very  far  from  intending  any- 
thing of  tlie  sort,  to  my  sorrow.  I  do  not  like  Margaret  passing 
a  long  and  lonely  life." 

"  It  is  not  so  to  her.  She  has  her  mother,  her  children,  her 
cares  and  estates,  that  charming  Miss  Rachel  —  lastly,  and  al- 
most least,  you,  Lotty." 

"  IIow  did  Margaret  tell  you  I  was  changed,  Milly?  " 

"  She  said  you  no  longer  laughed  merrily,  excepting  the 
evening  we  came  home  ;  that  you  buried  yourself  in  your  books, 
and  had  become  pale  and  thin  ;  and  besides,  it  Avas  privately 
whispered  to  me,  that  there  Avere  strong  symptoms  the  little 
Bear  was  come  to  life  a^^aiu." 

"  Sliall  I  give  you  a  specimen  of  his  ferocity  now,  Milly?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,  dear.  But,  seriously,  Margai'ct  is  \udia])py 
about  y<)>i.  Slie  thinks  you  are  not  pleased  that  she  has  taken 
Miss  liachel  to  live  with  her  " 

"  Nay,  Heaven  forljid !  INIargaret  must  think  her  Lotty 
changed,  if  she  deems  her  so  base  as  that." 

"  Tlii-n,  what  is  it,  Lotty?  " 

'•  I  w  ill  mend  my  manners,  ]Milly,  so  tliat  even  Gerald  shall 
Bay  I  am  a  true  penitent.  Think  no  more  of  my  sins,  and  let 
u.i  talk  of  ollic-r  tilings." 

"  As  y<n«  like,  Lotly,  Basil  met  us  at  Liverpool,  but  he 
■would  not  come  ou  here  with  us." 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  341 

"  That  was  unbrotherly." 

"  We  are  to  spend  Christmas  with  him,  then  perhaps  he  may 
return  with  us." 

"  Perhaps,  as  he  will  have  you  to  visit." 

"  Does  he  come  often  to  see  Margaret?" 

"  I  believe  so.  Whenever  she  wants  advice,  he  flies  doAvn 
on  telegraphic  wings,  which,  I  presume,  are  quicker  than  winged 
ones  now." 

"  I  thought  he  had  grown  handsomer  than  ever,  Lotty." 

"  I  have  not  seen  him  these  eight  or  nine  months,  I  believe  ; 
unluckily,  I  was  always  absent  when  he  came." 

"  You  believe  !  how  coldly  you  talk,  and  so  fond  of  Basil  as 
you  used  to  be." 

"  Yes,"  said  Lotty,  yawning,  "  that  was  when  I  was  a  school- 
girl ;  I  have  become  very  fond  of  botany  now,  and  I  want  Mai-- 
garet  to  go  to  Wales  :  in  Brecknockshire  I  hear  you  can  find 
almost  every  rare  Avild  flower  or  fern  known  in  great  Britain. 
Think  of  that,  now,  Milly." 

"  Lotty,  Lotty  !  you  are  a  changeling." 

"  Both  Lotties  love  you,  so  do  not  be  angry." 

****** 

And  so  at  last  they  all  settled  into  their  usual  places,  and  no 
event  of  any  importance  occurred,  but  that  Lotty's  mood  changed 
asrain :  from  bein^  a  cross  little  irritable  Bear,  she  Avas  now  so 
subdued,  so  gentle,  so  loving,  in  all  her  Avays,  no  one  knew  how 
to  make  enough  of  her. 

"  Bairn,  bairn  !  what  for  dinna  ye  clack  on  wi'  yer  bit  pratty 
ways?"  said  Mrs,  Laird,  who  half  disliked  her  change.  "  Ye're 
sae  saft  and  sa  douce  like,  and  yer  een  aye  fill  wi'  tears  at  the 
first  word  ;  bairn,  ye  hae  getten  a  luik  like  as  of  anither  warld, 
and  I  wad  I  might  be  in  my  cauld  grave,  ere  I  lost  sight  o'  ye, 
for  ye  air  just  the  darlmg  of  old  Janet  Laird's  heart." 

"After  a  naughty  fit,  it  is  time  to  be  good,  Mammy  Laird," 
answered  Lotty. 

"  Naughty  !  Weel,  bairn,  when  ye  do  harm  to  ere  a  body  in 
this  wicked  warld,  Janet  Laird  will  turn  highway-woman.  Ye 
hae  a  trouble  in  yer  heart,  bairn  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Bear  is  getting  lazy,  and  loves  the  fire  more  than 
Lotty." 

Bear  arose,  and  laying  his  beautiful  head  on  Lotty's  lap,  en- 
deavored to  blink  and  wink  an  indignant  denial. 

"  Aye  me  !  but  thon  doggie  gets  mair  sensible  day  by  day  — 
he'll  be  speaking  sune.  And  sae  ye  wunna  tell  me  yer  trouble?" 
29* 


342  '    MARGARET 

"  I  have  none,  but 


"  AVhat  noo,  my  licart'.s  bairn?" 

"  Suppose  I  should  leave  you,  and  go  away,  would  you  love 
me  still?" 

Mrs.  Laird  at  first  sat  down  stunned,  and  then  she  cried  bit- 
terly :  suddenly,  looking  at  Lotty's  face,  and  seeing  it  half  blushes 
and"  half  smiles,  a  light  broke  into  her  mind,  illuminating  the 
strong  Scotch  features,  bedewed  with  great  tears. 

"  The  Lord  bless  us  !  No  possible,  bairn.  Bairn,  dinna  rin 
like  that.  Joost  what  the  doctor  and  me's  been  a-praying  for. 
Hoot !  the  lassie's  gane  aff  like  the  sna  drift,  and  I'll  no  catch 
her.  She's  joost  a  bit  fairy,  wi'  her  tricks.  But  I'll  aye  abide 
'  her  tiuie.  My  certie,  I'll  blithely  bide  a  wee,  and  whatten  a 
gay  laugh  I'll  hae  at  the  doctor." 

"  Lotty,  love,"  said  Margaret,  "  why  do  you  make  me  love 
you  so  much?     Suppose  I  had  to  part  from  you." 

''  You  wouhl  miss  me,  then?  " 

"  Miss  you  !  my  best  and  dearest  Lotty?  Ask  the  flowers  if 
they  bloom  without  their  sunbeams  ;  ask  the  birds  if  they  would 
sing  without  their  mates." 

"  Say  the  word  then,  and  Lotty  is  yours  for  life." 

"  Only  in  one  way  could  I  bear  to  lose  you,  Lotty,  and  that 
woidd  be  no  loss,  but  a  blessed  gain  to  me.  Two  friends  doubled 
fourl'uld  by  being  one." 

"  A  match-maker  !  Margaret  a  match-maker  !  Since  you 
have  broached  such  an  extraordinary  suljject  for  you,  let  me  ask 
you  why  may  not  I  have  the  same  delight?  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Lotty." 

"  Long  ago,  nay,  when  we  were  yet  both  at  school,  I  built  a 
fairy  castle,  in  which  my  Margaret  reigned  Queen,  and " 

"Go  on,  Lotty." 

"  Basil,  King,  dear  Meg,"  said  Lotty,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Like  all  school-girls'  castles,  that  was  fitly  knocked  down, 
Lotty." 

"  Yes,  for  a  time  ;  but  now  I  should  like  to  rebuild  it." 

"  Is  this  Lotty  speaking  to  Margaret?" 

"•Yi!s,  and  she  wishes  an  answer." 

'■  How  do  i)0(ii)le  answer  insults?  How  am  I?  Can  it  indeed 
be  Lotty,  my  Lotty,  who  gives  me  this  wound?"  and  Margaret's 
face  crimsone(l  willi  aii  Miiger  and  indignation  ])eauti(ul  to  see. 

Lotty's  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  ;  her  own  fact-  pale  as  marble. 

"Do  you  know  what  love  is,  child?"  continued  Margaret, 
with  a  sort  of  pitying  scorn. 


AND    HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  343 

"  Yes,  foi'  you,"  breathed  Lotty,  low  and  soft. 

"  Love  !  where  Death's  grim,  cold  clutch  is  as  the  touch  of 
your  first  child's  lips,  so  he  spares  the  beloved  one.  Love  !  that 
pervades  the  heart,  until  earth,  sea,  sky,  and  universe  seem  too 
small  to  hold  it.  A  love  that  the  grave  so  hallows,  the  lonely 
one  lives  on  faithfulness,  and  requires  no  other  food.  But  stay, 
you  never  loved,  Lotty." 

"  I  have  a  love  within  me,"  answered  Lotty,  "  more  strcn-j  than 
that ;  for  life  is  a  trifle  to  offer  at  its  shrine,  in  comparison  to 
what  I  am  ready  to  give.  Now,  answer  me  but  this  one  question, 
Margaret,  then  spurn  your  Lotty  if  you  will.  You  are  now 
twenty-four  years  of  age  ;  you  have  a  long  life  before  you.  You 
are  full  of  woman's  best  and  sweetest  virtues,  more  fitted  than 
any  oae  I  ever  saw  for  Avife  and  mother.  Say,  can  you  doom 
to  a  desolate  hearth  and  lonely  home  a  man  whom  you  have 
known  and  liked  from  childhood ;  whose  nature  is  so  true  to 
your  own ;  who  gave  his  young  heart,  as  you  know,  into  your 
keeping,  until  forced  to  tear  its  very  life-pulse  out ;  whose  every 
thought  is  noble  and  good  ;  Avho  is  bound  to  you  by  ties  of  cordial 
sympathy,  and  by  the  joint  interest  of  your  children  ;  say,  Mar- 
garet, would  you  refuse  to  marry  this  man  ?  " 

"  Did  Lord  Erlscourt  desire  you  to  speak  to  me?"  answered 
Margaret,  in  a  voice  so  strange,  so  cold,  Lotty  looked  up  in 
wonder. 

"  No  !  O  no  !  "  exclaimed  Lotty.  "  Basil  knows  nothing  ;  I 
ask  for  myself  alone." 

"  I  thank  God,  yes,  I  thank  thee,  O  God  !  that  he  still  remains 
the  fi'iend  and  brother  I  require.  How  could  I  doubt  him  ?  " 
continued  Margaret  joyfully  ;  "  how  could  I  belie  for  one  moment 
his  noble  nature  ?  But  for  you,  you,  Lotty,  who  ought  to  have 
known  better  than  even  Basil  himself,  that  if  Margaret  loved 
once,  it  was  forever  ;  but  in  that  love  she  cast  all  she  had ;  how 
am  I  to  answer  you  ?  The  natural  love  of  a  mother  binds  me 
to  life  ;  the  bounty  and  mercy  of  God  have  given  me  tasks  to  do, 
which  leave  but  little  time  for  murmuriugs.  I  am  blest  in  the 
hope  of  executing  all  my  Harold's  Avishes,  leaAang  his  name 
untarnished  and  his  children  beloA'ed.  1  am  twice  gifted  in 
having  the  afl^ections  of  those  around  me,  and  bestowing  on 
them  in  return  all  the  love  I  have  left.  I  say  in  the  morning, 
■ '  Praise  God  ; '  and  at  night  I  Avhisper  my  prayer  of  thanks- 
giving for  a  contented  heart,  a  cheerful  spirit.  I  go  about  the 
world,  I  enter  with  pleasure  into  all  that  interests  others.  Yet, 
Lotty, 


344  MARGARET 

'•  '  Neither  the  angels  that  live  in  heaven  above, 
Or  the  demons  clown  unckr  the  sea, 
Can  ever  dissever  my  soul  from  the  soul ' 

of  my  Harold.     You  are  answered.     Farewell !  " 

Marfraret  turned  away,  her  fair  face  flushed  and  excited,  her 
step  and  air  like  a  mourning,  injured  queen  ;  but  already  the 
inspired  eyes  looked  up  into  the  viewless  air,  and  ere  Lotty  lost 
slglit  of  her,  the  fair  fingers  laced  themselves  together.  Mar- 
garet Avas  in  spirit  communing  with  her  Harold. 

"  She  will  forgive  me  soon,"  murmured  Lotty ;  "  she  will 
guess  her  Lotty  had  a  motive."  And  she  went  and  sat  doAvn  in 
one  of  the  quaint  old  summer-houses  which  commanded  a  view 
of  the  path  Margaret  had  taken.  Bear  shoAvcd  no  sort  of  sym- 
pathy witli  Lotty's  silent  mood,  but  gambolled  about  in  high 
gusto,  as  if  all  the  world  were  charmed  with  each  other,  and 
no  breeze  had  hoard  the  first  words  of  estrangement  between 
Margaret  and  Lotty. 

A  soft,  hurried  light  was  in  Lotty's  eyes,  and  a  smile  came  to 
her  lips  as  she  heard  the  words,  "  Lotty  !  Lotty  !  "  rising  on  the 
air.  JMargaret  had  not  been  gone  half  an  hom*,  after  taking  that 
leave  of  Lotty,  almost,  as  it  Avere  forever,  and  here  she  was  fly- 
ing back  with  swift  footfall,  calling  on  her  urgently. 

Lotty  came  forward,  slowly  and  shyly.  But  the  instant  IMar- 
garet  saw  her,  she  ran  to  her,  and  lilting  up  the  little  blushing 
face,  kissed  it  again  and  again,  saying,  "  I  Avondered,  and  Avas 
so  hurt,  so  A'excd,  and  I  cried  bitterly,  and  I  said,  '  that  Lotty 
should  think  thus  of  me,  Lotty  Avho  loves  me  so.'  Then  came 
her  Avords  ringing  into  my  memory,  as  if  pealed  from  the  boughs 
above  me :  '  I  have  a  love  Avithin  me,  more  strong  than  yours, 
for  life  is  a  trifle  to  offer  at  i  ■!  shrine,  in  com])arison  to  Avhat  I 
am  ready  to  give.'  I  believe'  it.  Thank  God !  Lotty,  I  need 
not  the  sacrifice.  Now,  you  knoAV  this,  you  feel  it — nay,  turn 
not  away,  but  bless  your  Margaret  by  saying  you  are  happy." 

"  I  am  happy." 

"  I  know  all  now,"  said  Margaret,  going  on  ;  "  everything 
is  plain,  that  Avas  so  enigm'atical  before.  But,  Lotty,  dearest, 
most  uMsoltish,  most  matchless  Lotty,  noAV  my  castle  Avill  be 
built,  my  dream  Avill  come  true  ;  your  Margaret's  only  Avish  Avill 
be  gratified.  But  Avhen  may  I  speak  openly?  I  feel  sure  you 
have  been  a  cruel,  remorseless,  imfeeling  Lotty,  and  you  must 
be  brougla  to  reason  inuncdiatoly." 

"  Now  don't,  Meg ;  liow  could  I  think  a^ou  Avould  be  so 
Billy  ?  " 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  345 

"  I  like  to  be  silly  —  I  will  be  so.  Ah,  Bear  !  your  day  is 
over.     Do  not  fancy  you  are  the  best  beloved " 

"  No  I  "  interrupted  Lotty,  hastily.  "  Bear  knows  that  Lotty 
is  silly  enough  to  like  an  unkind  Margaret  the  best." 

"  I  will  not  be  unkind.  No,  Bear  ;  for  the  first  and  last  time, 
Maro-aret  and  Lotty  have  misunderstood  each  other  ;  and  time  is 
too  precious  for  me  to  suflPer  a  moment  of  estrangement  now. 
Who  knows  how  soon  I  may  lose  her  ?  Who  can  tell  Avhat 
changes  a  day  may  bring  forth  ?  As  the  miser  hoards  his  gold, 
as  the  prisoner  cherishes  the  fresh  air,  so  must  I  hold  and  love 
my  treasure  while  she  is  mine." 

"  I  will  never  leave  you,  if  you  Avish  it,  Queen  Meg." 

"  Perhaps  I  may  demand  the  sacrifice  ;  but  wait  until  I  do." 


CHAPTER    LXXIV. 

So  the  fourteenth  of  February  came  again. 

"  My  Lotty,  are  you  not  early?  the  clock  has  only  just  struck 
six,"  said  tlie  sleepy  Margaret,  as  Lotty  rose  to  take  her  morn- 
ing's walk. 

"  Good  night,  then,  and  go  to  sleep  again,"  answered  Lotty ; 
"because.  Bear,"  continued  she,  when  in  her  dressing-room, 
"  we  must  get  out  of  the  way,  and  hide  ourselves.  It  won't  do 
for  us  to  go  and  meet  anybody  this  morning  —  we  must  be  there 
first." 

But  somebody  seemed  to  know  with  whom  he  had  to  deal. 
For,  again,  as  Lotty  passed  out  in  the  dark  morning,  did  she 
hear  the  words,  low  and  tender,  — 

"Is  this  my  Lotty?" 

Bear  gave  a  short,  deep  tone  of  recognition  and  delight,  —  a 
mode  of  expression  he  never  indulged  in  but  on  extraordinary 
occasions.     But  there  was  no  other  sound. 

"  Is  this  my  Lotty?"  again  was  heard,  in  accents  this  time 
troubled  and  sad. 

A  little  hand  was  put  into  Basil's  ;  he  clasped  it  with  a  force 
that  almost  crushed  it  into  nothing,  and,  with  a  cry  of  irresisti- 
ble happiness,  drew  the  slight  form,  for  one  brief  moment,  close 
to  his  heart.  Then,  with  one  arm  round  her,  he  bore  her 
swiftly  to  the  cedar  walk.     There,  on  that  Valentine's  Day,  be- 


346  MARGARET 

fore  even  the  birds  vrcre  awake  to  settle  their  own  betrothmcnts, 
■words  of  love  and  v^ws  of  constancy  had  been  given  and  ex- 
changed ;  and  tlie  snn  broke  out  in  liigh  refulgence,  as  if  to  rat- 
ify the  contract  with  his  bright  presence. 

Margaret  had  not  followed  Lotty's  advice,  and  turned  to  sleep 
again.  On  the  contrary,  she  also  rose  early,  and  as  the  lovers 
crossed  the  lawn  from  the  cedar  walk,  they  saw  her  sweet  face 
anxiously  watching  from  the  breakfast-room  window.  They 
could  see  her  happy  start,  they  knew  she  disappeared  onl}'  to 
meet  them  at  the  garden  door,  and,  ere  they  thought  she  could 
be  there,  she  was  out,  shawlless  and  bonuetless,  but  glowing 
with  so  nuich  delight,  she  heeded  not  the  keen  February  air. 

"  My  Lotty  !  —  dear  Basil !  —  tell  me  quickly,  am  I  to  asso- 
ciate evermore  two  such  loved  names  as  one  ?  " 

"  I  have  caught  her  at  last,  Margaret ;  but,  unless  I  have 
your  help,  she  may  escape  me  yet ;  she  is  the  most  Avilful " 

'•  Dearest,  sweetest,  best  Lotty  iu  the  Avorld,"  interrupted 
Margaret. 

"  I  grant  it,  she  is  all  that,  and  much  more,  and  I  will  tell  her 
80,  as  soon  as  ever  she  has  told  you  she  loves  me.  I  must  have 
a  witness,  IMargaret ;  and  until  your  hear  her  say  it,  I  am  not 
6ui-e  of  her." 

"  You  must  give  her  time,  Basil." 

"  Time,  dear  ^Margaret !  I  asked  her  to  marry  me  two  years 
ago,  and  she  has  never  vouchsafed  me  a  civil  Avord  or  kind  look 
since.     Judge  if  I  have  not  reason  to  be  alarmed." 

All  this  time,  it  was  beautiful  to  see  Marjiaret  caressing  and 
fondling  the  little  blushing,  shy  thing,  and  most  wonderful  to 
behold  the  glowing  delight  of  Basil,  expressed  in  his  radiant 
eyes  and  smiles.  But  Lotty  would  say  nothing  he  required. 
She  said,  ''Bear  loved  him,  and  she  did  not  dislike  him;"  and 
with  that  he  was  forced  to  be  content. 

So  now  Margaret  took  Lotty  up  stairs,  that  she  might  tak& 
oflf  her  walking  things,  and  prepare  for  breakfast;  and  she  hov- 
ered about  her,  and  waited  upon  her,  as  a  nurse  waits  upon  the 
petted  child. 

"  Two  years  !  —  how  could  j'ou  be  so  cruel,  Lotty?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  —  I  could  not  tell  —  1  have  been  very  un- 
hai)py,"  murmured  Lotty. 

"  Ah,  my  l)est  one,  all  for  me  !  How  lucky  it  was  that  I  was 
BO  hurt  and  angry.  Then  you  must  have  been  convinced.  But 
turn.  Lotty,  look  at  me  wilii  yoiu"  dear,  most  truthful  eyes. 
Coufcsa  to  youi-  Margaret  that  now  you  know  what  love  is. 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  347 

Now  you  can  feel  that  all  she  said  was  the  living,  naked  truth. 
Once  love  truly,  'tis  love  forever.  Now  comfort  your  Margaret 
by  saying  you  feel  and  know  it ;  then  she  will  forgive  herself  for 
ever  being  cross  to  her  Lotty,  or  misunderstanding  her." 

"  I  feel,  I  know  it,"  whispered  Lotty,  blushing  and  trembling, 
and  then  trying  to  look  defiant  and  indifferent. 

"  Of  all  the  things  that  could  happen  to  me  in  this  world, 
nothing  ever  joleased  me  more,  or  could  benefit  me  so  much. 
Don't  you  see,  Lotty,  you  have  now  given  me  a  real  brother? 
Now  I  may  make  use  of  Basil's  services  twice  as  much  again  as 
I  have  lately  done,  because,  you  know,  Lotty,  the  world  is  such 
a  strange  one  —  so  rude,  so  far  from  generous." 

"  There  is  the  breakfast-bell.  Queen  Meg." 

They  went  do-wn  together,  and,  as  they  opened  the  door,  Basil 
met  them.  Lady  Montagu  and  Miss  Rachel  were  also  in  the 
room.  AYithout  the  smallest  preparation,  but  with  the  greatest 
coolness,  and,  as  Lotty  afterwards  said,  "  impudence,"  Basil  at 
once  took  her  hand,  and  leading  her  up  to  the  two  ladies,  said, 
"  Allow  me  to  introduce  to  you  my  future  wife.  I  am  obliged 
to  do  this,"  continued  he,  apologetically,  "  not  only  because  I 
am  impatient  for  all  the  world  to  congratulate  me  on  my  happi- 
ness, but  I  wish  it  to  be  as  publicly  known  as  possible,  that  she 
may  not  retract." 

Tliey  were  quite  as  much  charmed  as  he  meant  them  to  be, 
and  in  the  state  of  excitement  into  which  they  all  fell,  breakfast 
ran  great  danger  of  being  utterly  forgotten. 

"  But  I  cannot  think,  Basil,  why  you  have  been  so  cold  and 
indifferent  to  her  all  this  time,"  said  Lady  Montagu,  "  telling 
me,  as  you  do,  how  long  you  have  loved  her." 

"  I  was  obeying  her  wishes,  as  I  supposed.  She  had  a  pur- 
pose in  her  heart,  and  I  had  one  in  mine.  We  each  took  our 
own  methods  of  fulfilling  our  secret  wishes,  and  I  certainly  tliiuk 
I  have  shortened  my  probation  by  the  excessive  care  I  took  to 
show  I  was  indifferent  to  her.  Now,  my  Lotty,  confess,  the 
more  I  was  a  wretch  and  hypocrite,  the  more  you  thanked  and 
loved  me  !  " 

"  You  will  upset  the  cream-jug,  if  you  are  so  fidgety,"  was 
all  Lotty's  answer. 

"Margaret,  have  you  any  message  to  Rose  Leigh?  I  must 
run  across  for  a  private  business  of  my  own." 

"  Now,  Basil,"  began  Lotty. 

''What,  my  Lotty?"  answered  he,  turning  his  beaming, 
smiling  eyes  upon  her,  and  enjoying  her  confusion.     "  Nay,  yoa 


848  MAEGARET 

must  let  mc  be  the  bearer  of  my  own  frood  ncAvs.  You  have  had 
}i)ur  May  lor  two  years  ;  give  uie  tliid  one  day,  aud  you  shall 
have  two  years  more." 

"  A  bargain,"  said  Lotty. 

''  "We  will  seal  it,"  answered  he,  "  on  a  fitting  occasion." 

As  Basil  entered  the  di'awing-i'oom  at  Kosc  Leigh,  every  one 
of  the  inmates  exclaimed,  as  they  looked  at  him. 

'•  "What  good  news  do  you  bring  us?  "  said  Lady  Katherine. 

"  Dear,  dear  !  —  what  charming  thing  has  happened  ?  "  said  I'ru. 

"  He  is  going  to  be  married  !"  cried  John  Grey  ;  and  to  add 
force  to  his  words,  down  Aveut  his  hand  Avith  such  hearty  good 
Avill  on  the  table,  that  all  the  cups,  saucers,  spoons,  and  forks 
skipped  up  in  indignation. 

"  Nothing  but  matrimony  could  make  him  look  thus  ;  I  did 
just  the  same,  my  Pru.-1'ru." 

'*  lie  does  look  happy,"  said  Lady  Katherine  ;  "  but  I  hope  he 
is  not  going  to  be  married  ;  Ave  cannot  spare  him  to  a  stranger." 

"  It  is  not  a  stranger,"  said  Basil,  more  radiant  than  ever. 

"  Mrs.  Leigh,"  exclaimed  John  Grey ;  and  doAvn  Avent  the 
hand  on  the  table  again,  aud  the  forks  and  spoons  skipped 
higher  than  before. 

'■'■  Lotty,  sweet,  dear,  darling  Lotty  !  Say  it  is  Lotty,  and  none 
Avill  rejoice  as  Ave  do." 

Of  coui-se,  they  must  instantly  start  off  to  kiss  and  bless  her. 

"  "Wait  for  your  A\Tapper,  mamma,"  urged  Pru. 

"  Stay,  my  l^m.-Pru.,  until  I  procure  your  clogs,"  commanded 
John  Grey. 

"  I  must  go  at  once  to  bless  the  darling  child  !  "  exclaimed 
Lady  Katherine. 

"My  sAveet,  darling  Lotty!"  said  Pru.,  half  crying,  half 
laughing. 

But  Margaret  kncAA^  Avhat  they  Avould  Avish,  and  had  antici- 
pated tliem.  There  she  Avas  iu  the  (lt)i)r-Avay,  and  behind  they 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  little  figure,  lluw  she  Avas  kissed,  con- 
gratulated, and  blessed  !  How  they  Avondered,  and  rejoiced,  aud 
chattered  ;  leading  one  to  imagine  that  Lotty  had  been  born  for 
no  oilier  j)iir|)Ose  than  to  marry  Lord  Erlscourt,  and  that  the 
Avlidlc  wdiUl  had  leagued  lliemselves  in  terrible  array,  for 
months  and  years,  to  prevent  the  marriage.  But  that  he,  Avitli 
the  courage  and  fortitude  of  the  celebrated  young  man  in  the 
Arabian  Niglits,  liad  surmounted  time,  dilficuhies,  and  troubles, 
uti  <:reat  as  his,  in  the  journey  to  the  unknown  islands  of  Wak- 
"Wak,  and  liku  him,  hud  rescued  aud  recovered  his  winged  aud 
beautiful  bride. 


AND  HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  349 


CHAPTER    LXXV. 

"  I  WISH  to  know,  Basil,  how  you  came  to  think  of  loving 
me  ?  "  asked  Lotty. 

"  I  wish  to  know,  my  Lotty,  how  I  could  help  it?  "  said  Basil, 
in  return. 

"  But  you  knew  very  little  of  me  before  ;  that  is,  you  know, 
you  had  so  many  things  on  which  to  bestow  your  attention,  I 
never  imagined  you  had  any  for  me." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  make  myself  out  such  a  hypocrite  then,  for  I 
do  not  think  I  ever  missed  a  word  you  said,  or  anything  you  did. 
I  am  too  happy  now  to  tell  you  what  I  endured  when  I  heard 
of  that  hasty  marriage  ;  for  I  then  found  out 'that  I  was  not 
smitten  with  your  prettiness,  or  your  sweet  wilful  ways,  but 
that  I  had  reckoned  upon  trying  to  win  the  affections  that  would 
be  to  me  the  true  and  only  panacea  for  my  early  disappoint- 
ment." 

"  Ah,  don't  be  too  sure.  You  cannot  think  how  wicked  I  can 
be,  if  I  choose." 

"  Be  as  wicked  as  you  like,  I  shall  only  be  too  glad  to  punish 
you,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  will  give  me  a  specimen 
now,  as  I  have  a  punishment  all  ready,  which  I  am  dying  to 
inflict." 

"  Nay,  tell  me  the  punishment  first." 

"  I  should  carry  you  off  to  church,  and  marry  you  on  the 
spot." 

"  That  is  too  severe.  I  am  sure  Flo.  would  pity  me,  if  again 
I  had  no  opportunity  of  being  married  in  a  grand  dress,  and 
having  a  trousseau." 

"  Do  you  know,  Lotty,  I  feel  for  once  in  my  life  pleased  with 
and  grateful  to  Mrs.  Bankes.  The  alternative  between  her  offer 
and  mine,  I  imagine,  gave  me  a  favorable  lift,  at  a  time  I  most 
required  it,  for  you  are  so  wilful,  Lotty." 

"  I  see  no  wilfulness  in  my  wish  not  to  burden  you  with  a 
wife,  whom,  perhaps,  after  a  year's  marriage,  you  would  have 
discovered  you  did  not  love  as  you  loved  before." 

"  Come,  now,  that  is  a  very  wicked  speech ;  you  must  be 
punished." 

"  Bear,  Bear  !  "  cried  Lotty,  struggling  from  his  grasp. 

"It  is  of  no  use  your  calling  Bear,  for  he  has  been  my 
30 


350  MARGARET 

confidant  these  two  years,  and  gave  his  consent  long  before  you 
did." 

"  I  won't  submit  to  be  kissed  in  the  public  road,  whenever 
you  choose." 

"  Then  I  will  wait  until  wo  get  into  Mrs.  Laird's  drawing- 
room,  lor  punished  you  must  be." 

Lotty,  however,  gained  the  victory  ;  for,  instead  of  following 
him  into  the  drawiug-room,  she  was  up  the  stairs  and  out  of 
sight  before  he  could  catch  her. 

Mrs.  Laird,  upon  hearing  the  news,  sat  down  and  cried  like 
a  child,  which  she  said  was  all  for  joy. 

Then  they  all  adjourned  to  Court  Leigh,  and  there  the  business 
of  the  day  began.  Lotly  was  to  receive  her  presents,  and  read 
innumerable  letters,  while  many  more  had  to  be  written,  so  that 
Basil  grew  very  imi)alicnt  at  all  this  monopolizing  of  his  Lotty, 

When  the  dinner  hour  approached,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laird  ap- 
peared—  she  in  brilliant  satin  and  Limerick  lace  cap,  and  he  in 
his  best  apparel,  with  his  wig  put  on  quite  straight,  to  do  honoi* 
to  the  day. 

"  My  bairn,  what  hae  ye  gotten  in  that  bonnie  box?"  said 
Mrs.  Laird,  as  she  took  her  wrapper  off,  in  Lotty's  room. 

"  Lord  Erlscourt's  birtlulay  present,  ma'am,  to  mo." 

"  And  whatna  a  sort  of  present  is  it,  my  bonnie  bairn?"  said 
Mrs.  Laird,  eagerly. 

'■'  I  have  not  looked  at  it  yet?" 

"  Ech  me,  to  hear  that  noo  !  For  my  sake  open  it,  and  let 
me  see,  bairn." 

Lotty  drew  forth  a  long  necklace  of  golden  links,  that  matched 
her  bi-acelets  ;  but  like  dew-drops  on  a  hot  summer's  night,  lay 
a  lu.-irous  diamond  on  each  link. 

''•  Lch  me,  but  you  man's  a  princely  giver  !  My  word,  but 
them':;  matchless,  bairn,  and  sae  just  fitting  for  you  !  " 

Till'  little,  small,  white  throat  gleamed  with  sparkling  beauty, 
for  Mrs.  Luird  insi.-ted  on  her  wearing  it  this  one  night.  And 
as  they  looked  at  and  admired  the  way  in  which  the  bright 
circlet  set  olf  Lotty's  fairy  beauty,  Mrs.  Laird  whispered  to  my 
Lord,  — 

''  I  dinna  think,  my  Laird,  ye  hae  matched  her  eyes,  yet." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  he  in  retui'n. 

•  •«**♦ 

The  State  of  commotion  into  which  the  Bcauvillian  line  fell, 
■was  wonderful.  This  was  a  proper  match  for  their  girl.  It 
should  be  celebrated  as  such  a  marriage  deserved. 


AND   HER  BEIDESMAIDS.  351 

The  settlements  offered  by  Lord  Erlscourt  were  munificent. 
What  they  meant  to  give  back  in  return  should  be  proportion- 
ate. But  above  all  things  in  the  world,  one  thing  pleased  them 
—  their  girl  looked  radiantly  happy,  and  she  had  whispered  in 
her  brother  Norman's  ear  that  she  loved  at  last.  Nothing 
should  mar  the  celebration  of  this  wedding,  at  all  events.  It 
was  to  take  place  at  the  village  church  of  Beau  Court.  Her 
eldest  brother  charged  himself  with  all  the  arrangements  and 
expenses  thereof,  while  other  brothers  took  other  duties,  and 
uncles  and  cousins  came  in  to  help.  And  Avhile  all  these  events 
were  occurring,  and  the  whole  country  in  a  commotion,  there 
sat  in  a  little  back  street  in  London,  in  a  little  dingy  parlor, 
a  lady,  —  that  is,  she  did  not  look  much  like  a  lady,  for  she  was 
in  a  dressing-gown,  witli  disordered  hair,  slippers  down  at  heel, 
and  what  appeared  to  be  an  unwashed  face  ;  and  she  was  warm- 
ing herself  by  the  fire,  seated  in  anything  but  an  elegant  atti- 
tude, and  reading  the  newspaper  with  anything  but  amiable 
feelings. 

"  Humph  !  Here  is  our  old  gentleman  appointed  one  of  the 
governors  of  the  Bank  of  England,  and  yet  he  suffers  a  son  like 
Fred,  to  live  in  such  odious  lodgings,  with  half  the  pittance  we 
ought  to  have,  because  we  got  a  little  into  debt.  It  is  all  very 
well  Fred,  saying  that  he  helped  us  three  times,  and  that  he 
won't  sit  and  listen  to  me  abusing  his  father,  —  but  he  shall 
hear  my  mind.  I  am  not  going  to  be  drowned  by  any  of  them. 
I  have  made  him  suffer  pretty  well  for  not  allowing  me  that  new 
bonnet ;  though,  to  be  sure,  I  have  found  it  very  dull  moping 
here  all  by  myself  of  an  evening.  But  it  is  no  fault  of  mine. 
He  said  I  should  not  have  the  bonnet,  because  his  fatlier  would 
think  his  promises  of  retrenchment  false  if  he  saw  me  going 
about  with  such  a  handsome  thing  —  and  so  it  was,  a  love,  and 
so  becoming.  And  I  said  he  should  have  no  dinner  until  I 
had  it.  No  more  he  shall,  here.  He  may  go  and  dine  on  a 
miserable  mutton-chop  in  the  city,  for  I  have  taken  good  care  he 
shall  not  have  above  a  shilling  in  his  pocket  when  he  goes  out, 
that  I  may  be  able  to  tell  his  stingy  old  father  that  I  am  econom- 
ical, at  all  events.  Jupiter  Ammon  !  what  do  I  see  in  the  court 
news 

'•'•  '  Lord  Erlscourt  about  to  lead  to  the  hymeneal  altar  the 
beautiful  Mrs.  Leigh,  of  High  Leigh,  Cheshire.' 

"  The  little,  sly,  unkind  thing !  Never  to  tell  me,  or  to  say 
one  word.  Or  I  wonder  has  she  cut  Margaret  out.  Dear  me  ! 
Perhaps  it  is  a  mistake.     No  !  it  cannot  be.    They  say,  early  iiu 


352  MARGARET 

May,  the  marriafrc  takes  place.  I  will  write  her  —  to  be  sure  I 
■will ;  1  will  ottl-r  my  services  to  select  her  trousseau.  This  time 
it  will  be  a  tittiug  oue,  I  hope.  I  will  write  her  such  a  letter, 
that  she  cauuot  help  asking  me  to  the  weddiug.  Then  I  must 
have  that  bouuet  to  go  there.  I  will  seud  a  note  into  the  city  to 
Fred.,  to  say  he  may  come  to  dinner  —  poor  fellow  !  I  long  to 
talk  over  the  news  with  him.  I  will  send  out  now  and  get  him 
a  nice  beefsteak,  and  a  slice  of  cod,  to  be  ready  by  half  past  six, 
with  some  scalloped  oysters.     Won't  he  enjoy  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bankes  did  all  she  intended,  and  welcomed  dear  Fred, 
very  a\  armly.  But  she  was  disappointed  in  seeing  him  enjoy 
the  feast  she  had  prepared  for  him.  He  hardly  tasted  a  mouth- 
ful of  fish,  he  said  it  was  so  woolly ;  and  he  turned  up  his  nose 
at  the  beefsteak — there  was  no  Worcester  sauce  to  it;  and  the 
scalloped  oysters  had  no  cayenne  pepper  in  them. 

"  Why,  Fred.,  after  dining  on  nothing  in  the  city  for  the  last 
three  days,  I  certainly  thought  you  would  have  been  gi-ateful  for 
this  nice  feast  that  1  had  prepared  for  you." 

"I  did  not  dine  in  the  city." 

"  Good  heavens  !  I  hope  you  have  not  been  running  up  a  bill 
at  some  club." 

"No,  of  course  not ;  I  always  dined  with  my  father." 

We  will  draw  a  veil  over  Mrs.  Baukcs's  discomfiture. 

No  wonder  "  dear  Fred."  could  eat  nothing  at  home. 

Pcre  Baukes  was  celebrated  even  iu  Londou  for  his  French 
cook. 


CIIAFTER    LXXVI. 

Gerald,  at  Lotty's  request,  was  to  marry  them.  But  Basil 
said  he  nuist  have  John  Grey  to  "  assist,"  because,  without 
regarding  tlie  fashion,  as  it  now  seemed  to  be,  he  deemed  it 
would  certainly  require  the  offices  of  two  clergymen  to  bind 
such  a  little  myth,  such  a  wilful,  way^vard  thing,  in  the  bauds 
of  holy  matrimony. 

'•  liut,"  sail!  .bilin  Grey,  "I  have  heard  a  strange  story,  a 
word  missed  —  or  rather  not  heard  —  it  is  thought,  unuttered  ia 
the  marriafrc  service;  I  give  due  notice,  unless  I  hear  every 
syllable  distinct  and  plain,  I  shut  uiy  book  and " 

"  Make  yoursell'  very  disagreeable,"  retorted  Lotty. 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  353 

"  I  shall  do  it,"  said  the  good  John,  his  eyes  twinkling,  "  as 
sure  as  I  love  my  Pru.-Pru." 

"  There  is  an  idea  running  loose  about  the  world,  which  ven- 
tures to  insinuate  you  love  Lady  Katherine  more  than  Pru.-Pru." 

"An  idea  I  glory  in,"  laughed  he.  "  I  must  away  to  tell  it 
to  my  Pru.-Pru." 

Lotty  duly  received  Mrs.  Bankes's  letter,  and  returned  for 
answer,  that  she  was  much  obliged  for  all  her  kind  congratula- 
tions and  offers  of  assistance.  But  she  was  sure  Flo.  would  be 
glad  to  hear  she  was  having  a  very  proper  and  correct  trousseau 
prepared  for  her  ;  and  believed  that  this  time  she  should  cer- 
tainly be  married  in  a  wedding-dress.  Nevertheless,  she  took 
no  notice  of  the  broad  hint,  purporting  Mrs.  Bankes's  ready 
acceptance  of  an  invitation  to  the  interesting  ceremony. 

So  Mrs.  Bankes  wrote  again  ;  and  this  time  pointedly  ex- 
pressed her  ardent  wish  to  be  present,  on  an  occasion  so  pecul- 
iarly trying  to  her  dearest  and  ever-beloved  Lotty  ;  and  wound 
up  with  a  list  of  the  various  talents  she  could  bring  to  bear,  so 
as  to  render  her  presence  both  agreeable  and  highly  convenient. 
"Whereupon  Lotty  returned  for  answer,  that  she  had  no  power  to 
give  any  in\'itations,  and  recommended  Flo.  to  comfort  herself 
with  the  reflection,  that  it  must  necessarily  be  a  very  indifferent 
sort  of  an  affair,  because  of  her  having  been  married  before. 
No  white  gloves,  no  white  dress,  no  favors,  not  even  bride-cake. 
She  was  sure  she  was  doing  a  kind  act,  sparing  Flo.  the  inflic- 
tion of  witnessing  such  a  mutilated  ceremony,  &c.,  &c. 

But  the  good  Beauvillians  were  not  at  all  disposed  to  be 
inhospitable  on  such  an  occasion,  and  had  already  settled  that 
every  single  individual  who  had  ever  had  a  liking,  or  glimpse, 
or  interest  in  "their  girl"  should  be  invited,  even  if  all  her 
schoolfellows  chose  to  be  of  the  number.  They  had  room 
enough  and  to  spare  among  the  numerous  kindred  ;  and  accord- 
ingly upon  Mrs.  Frank  fell  the  lot  to  invite  not  only  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Bankes,  but  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Royston. 

When  Carry  first  received  the  invitation,  a  little  clause  had 
been  somewhat  advisedly  inserted  in  the  letter.  "  So  large  an 
assemblage  was  expected,  Mrs.  Frank  was  much  afraid  she  had 
no  room  to  spare  for  children  ;  in  fact,  if  possible  (she  must 
beg  them  to  excuse  her  apparent  inhospitality  through  the 
urgency  of  the  peculiar  circumstance),  she  Avould  be  greatly 
obliged  if  they  brought  but  one  servant." 

No  children  !  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  since  she  had  been 
a  mother,  was  such  a  proposal  made  to  her.  Of  course  she 
30* 


854  MARGARET 


could  not  go.  The  grandest  wedding  in  the  world  would  not 
tempt  her  to  leave  her  darlings. 

"  I  wish  you  would  accept  it,  Carry,  dear,"  said  her  husband, 
wilh  an  cagerue:?s  rather  uuusual  in  him. 

'*  "What !  can  you  leave  your  horses  and  dogs  ?  "  demanded  she. 

"  Yes,  Carry,  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  go,  and  you  ^vill 
oblige  me  much  by  accepting  the  invitation.  I  can  assure  you, 
it  is  a  sad  life  I  lead,  going  about  from  place  to  place,  as  if  I 
was  a  bachelor,  and  had  neither  wife  nor  children." 

Carry's  heart  smote  her,  as  she  heard  these  unwonted  tones 
from  her  rough  'squire. 

"  I  will  accept ;  and  then  if  any  of  the  children  should  be  ill, 
or  likely  to  fret,  you  can  take  my  excuses." 

"  Thauk  you,  Carry,  for  conceding  so  much,"  answered  he, 
rewarding  her  after  his  own  boisterous  fashion. 

Perhaps  '.Squire  Royston  would  not  have  succeeded  in  his 
wishes,  but  for  a  letter  Carry  received  from  Flo.,  as  follows  •  — 

"  Mv  DEAR  Caroline  : 

"  Of  course  you  have  heard  of  the  splendid  match  my  dear 
Lotty  is  about  to  make.  The  ceremony  is  to  take  place,  after 
Easter,  on  the  23d  of  April,  and  I  am  extremely  busy  prepar- 
ing all  my  little  matters.  For,  of  course,  dearest  Lotty  insists 
on  my  attending  the  wedding,  which,  however  inconvenient,  I 
could  not  deny  her.  You  may  rely  upon  my  sending, you  every 
particular;  I  shall  make  a  point  of  writiug  to  you  iuunediately 
alter  the  ceremony,  which  you  may  be  sure  shall  lose  nothing  in 
iridt  from  my  presence.  1  hear  that  all  the  world  are  asked, 
and  every  house  in  the  neighborhood  is  to  be  crammed  ;  but, 
of  course,  I  shall  be  near  the  bride  —  in  fact,  under  the  same 
roof.  I  suppose  you  will  not  leave  the  darling  children,  other- 
wise, I  dare  say,  I  could  get  you  an  invitation.  However,  be 
assured  I  will  not  forget  you,  and  remain  ever,  your  affectionate 
BchoolfcUow  and  friend,  Flukkntia  BAMUiS." 

Flo.  always  signed  herself  thus,  when  on  "  stilts,"  as  Lotty 
termed  her  grand  modes, 

"  Upon  my  word  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Royston,  indignantly,  after 

reading  the  letter,  "  if  that  is  not  the  most  iujpudent "   But 

jierhaps  it  is  as  well  to  leave  to  the  imagination  all  the  'squire 
said.  "  Now,  Carry,  if  you  don't  go,  alter  reading  that  letter, 
I  —  I'll  —  yes,  I  will ;  that  is,  1  shall  have  to  go  aud  horsewhip 
Banked. " 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  355 

"0,  dear  Robert,  be  calm,  he  might  call  you  out  —  there 
might  be  a  duel ;  if  my  poor  children  should  be  fatherless " 

"  Come,  don't  cry  ;  as  regards  my  fatherly  attentions,  they 
won't  miss  much,  but  that  is  your  own  fault,  Carry.  I  am  not 
allowed  to  touch  my  children,  lest  I  should  crack  'em  or  damage 
'em." 


li 


I  think  I  will  certainly  accompany  you  now,  Robert ;  that 
is,  if  all  the  darlings  remain  well." 

"  I  devoutly  hope  they  will,  then  ;  and  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll 
do.  As  we  are  only  to  take  one  servant,  that  will  be  your  maid, 
of  course,  and  I  will  leave  my  man,  Bendeth,  to  ride  every 
morning  to  the  station,  and  telegraph  down  how  the  young  pups 


are." 


"  Pups ! " 

"  Children,  I  mean.  Carry." 

"  O  !  thank  you,  dear  Robert  —  how  thoughtful  and  kind  of 
you.  Certainly,  I  promise  to  go  now.  I  like  Flo.'s  imperti- 
nence, indeed ;  Lotty  was  quite  as  partial  to  me  as  to  her." 

"  She  is  not  what  I  take  her  to  be,  if  she  is  not  a  deal  more 
fond  of  you.     That  Mrs.  Bankes  is "    But  again  we  pause. 

So  the  important  day  came  ;  they  were  invited  to  appear  on 
the  20th,  that  they  might  have  three  days'  enjoyment  of  Lotty's 
society  beforehand. 

Lucky  it  was  for  the  'squire,  that  they  were  soon  puffing 
away  on  the  railroad  ;  for  the  first  half  hour  Carry  was  very 
tearful,  and  had  she  been  in  an  ordinary  carriage  with  horses, 
might  have  turned  back.  But  he  ensconced  her  safely  in  a  first- 
class,  and  was  so  attentive,  and  endeavored  to  make  himself  so 
agreeable,  that  having  a  really  tender  heart,  Carry  could  not  but 
dry  up  her  tears  and  be  comforted,  out  of  very  gratitude  for 
such  unwonted  exertions  on  the  'squii'e's  part. 

By  and  by  the  excitement  of  the  journey,  the  freedom  from 
maternal  anxieties,  the  number  of  miles  that  were  now  inevita- 
bly placed  between  her  and  her  darlings,  had  their  due  effect, 
and  she  began  to  smile  and  enjoy  herself  quite  like  the  Carry  of 
bridal  days. 

"  I  say,  Carry,  I  never  told  you  Avhat  I  did,  my  last  trip  to 
town.  I  know  you  seldom  think  of  yourself,  so  I  went  to  your 
milliner's,  and  ordered  you  a  few  nice  dresses,  and  head-gear, 
and  such  like.  Of  course,  I  did  not  venture  to  use  my  own  taste, 
but  I  told  Mrs.  Atkins,  if  you  liked  them,  and  looked  nice  in 
them,  I  would  pay  her  bill  within  the  month  ;  but  if  she  palmed 
off  any  of  her  trash  to  me,  she  might  whistle  for  her  money  for 
the  next  two  years.     That's  the  way  I  serve  my  tailor,  Carry." 


356  MARGARET 

"  O  Robert,  how  kind  you  are  !  Why,  I  always  thought  you 
cared  for  notliinir  but  horses  and  dojrs." 

"  Humph  I  Well,  I  am  rather  given  that  way ;  but  still, 
does  it  not  strike  you.  Carry,  that  a  change  comes  over  one  now 
and  then?  I  don't  think  I  can  pass  all  my  life  in  the  dog  and 
horse  line,  eh,  Carry  ?  " 

"  No,  Kobert,  I  should  hope  not." 
"  And  yet.  Carry,  wlien  I  do  stop  at  home,  what  happens?  " 

Carry  blushed,  and  was  uneasy. 

"  Never  mind,  1  don't  want  to  upbraid.  If  you  are  pretty 
happy  this  visit,  perhaps  you  and  I  may  come  to  some  sort  of  a 
bargain  for  the  future,  and  cacli  give  way  a  little.  But  here  is 
iSwiudon  —  now  what  Avill  you  have?  " 

"Nothing,  thank  you." 

"  Then  I'll  go  and  see  after  the  luggage,  and  get  a  glass  of 
•wine  for  myself." 

lie,  however,  soon  came  back,  his  handkerchief  almost  con- 
cealing his  face,  Avhile  he  indulged  in  hearty  but  suppressed 
laugliing. 

"  They  are  here.  Carry,  in  the  train  with  us.  By  the  Lord 
Harry !  I  would  not  miss  her  seeing  you  at  Gloucester  for  a 
mint  of  money  ;  keep  close.  Carry,  Ave  Avill  have  a  Siddonain 
scene  then.  It  was  so  lucky  she  is  sucli  a  chatterpie.  I  Avas 
just  going  into  the  refreshment-room,  Avhen  I  heard  her  ha- 
ranguing poor  '  Fred.'  Such  a  dressing  as  she  gave  him,  for 
leaving  her  exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the  multitude.  She  had 
brought  a  maid  Avith  her  —  it  Avas  her  business  to  look  after  the 
luggage,  not  his.  Heaven  help  that  poor  little  mauuikiu  !  he  is 
properly  henpecked." 

The  'sfjuire  Avas  so  pleased  Avitli  the  idea  of  Avhat  Avas  to  come, 
that  he  had  not  ceased  laugliing  when  thry  arrived.  Curry  hav- 
ing the  advantage  of  foreknowledge,  Avas  fully  prepared  for  the 
interview  at  Gloucester  station:  but  Flo.'s  start  and  exclama- 
tion fully  ausAvered  Mr.  Koyston's  expc<-tations. 

''  My  lieavens,  Carry  !   what  arc  you  doing  here?" 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  Lotty's  Avedding,"  answered  Carry, 
composedly. 

"  And  who  aski'd  you?"  exclaimed  Flo.,  with  un  ellort,  en- 
deavoring 111  liiiii'  lui-  discomhture. 

"The  sanu'.  person  that  asked  you  —  Mrs.  Frank  Beauvil- 
liers.  I  thought  it  useless  to  answer  your  letter,  as  1  should 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  soon,"  coutiuued  Carry,  with 
sjtirit. 


IT 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  35 

Flo.  was  for  once  silenced  and  put  down.     But  not  for  long. 

"  Flo.,"  said  Mr.  Bankes,  "  how  many  boxes  have  you?" 

"  Five,"  she  answered. 

"  Then  one  has  gone  to  Exeter  ;  it  was  all  your  fault " 

"  Gracious  heavens,  Frederick !  then  you  must  go  instantly 
after  it ! — How  dare  you  be  so  careless  and  good-for-nothing  !  " 
continued  she,  turning  to  the  vinfortunate  maid. 

"  I  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  answered  Fred.  ;  "  we  will 
telegraph,  if  you  like  ;  but  as  it  was  all  your  own  doing,  I'll 
thank  you  to  scold  no  more." 

Snubbed  by  Fred.,  what  further  indignity  Avas  she  to  suffer? 

They  had  a  very  kind  welcome  from  Mrs.  Frank,  and  a  truly 
Beanvillian  one  from  Mr.  Frank,  and  in  a  genial  glow  of  half- 
bustle  and  half-happiness,  they  were  hurried  up  stairs  to  dress 
and  prepare  for  an  evening  party.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frank  were 
"  at  home  "  that  night  to  all  the  Beauvilliers. 

If  ever  there  Avas  a  fresh,  clean,  beautiful,  Avell-ordered,  well- 
appointed  house,  it  Avas  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Frank's.  Bright,  blazing 
fires,  neat-handed,  SAvift-footed,  smiling  little  handmaids,  beauti- 
ful toilette  appointments,  green-painted  spacious  baths,  and  a 
general  pervading  scent  of  freshness  and  lavender,  put  every  one 
into  a  high  state  of  comfort  and  delight. 

Flo.  had  recovered  her  assurance,  and  being  promised  her 
missing  box  by  the  next  day,  was  in  high  good  humor. 

"  Really,"  said  she  to  '  dear  Fred.,'  "  I  must  go  and  see  what 
Carry  is  about  to  Avear.  I  cannot  haA'e  her  disgrace  herself  and 
VIS,  by  anything  doAvdy.  Luckily  I  have  brought  more  than  I 
shall  Avant,  and  can  lend  her  a  headdress." 

But  the  amount  of  finery  spread  out  in  all  its  glory  on  Carry's 
bed,  sent  her  back  tamed  and  subdued  for  the  evening. 

"  Think  of  Mr.  Royston  making  her  such  magnificent  presents, 
and  she  knowing  nothing  about  it,  my  dear  Fred.,  until  she  opened 
the  box  ;  and  I  never  gave  the  man  credit  for  a  morsel  of  taste.  A 
silk  dress,  Fred.,  couleur  D'Ahricot,  AA'ith  siich  black  lace  flounces, 
and  pomegranates  for  the  hair,  and  a  blue  moire.  O  Fred., 
Fred. !  just  the  dress  I  am  dying  for,  and  the  most  beautiful 
brocade  for  the  Avedding-day.  Well,  one  comfort  is,  hoAvcA^er 
handsome  Carry's  dress,  she  must  look  a  doAvdy,  she  is  such  a 
figure.  Law !  before  I'd  be  so  fat  —  There  !  I  declare  that 
must  be  a  carnage  at  the  door  —  make  haste  ;  of  all  things  I 
like  to  Avatch  the  company  being  ushered  in ;  it  is  such  a  good 
time  to  look  over  their  dresses." 


858  MARGARET 

There  was  a  goodly  assemblage  of  the  Beaxivillian  family,  and 
a  very  tine  set  tliey  were  to  look  at,  but  out  of  compliment  to 
Lord  Eriscourt,  the  whole  of  hit;  family  were  asked  to  Beau 
Court,  and  were  now  being  ushered  in,  under  the  strict  surveil- 
lance of  Mrs.  Baukes. 

^  I  suppose  that  is  my  lady,"  whispered  she  to  Carry,  who 
looked  veiy  pretty  and  nice  in  her  blue  moire,  rather  to  Flo.'s 
astonishment,  and  highly  to  the  'squire's  delight  and  admiration. 
"  Well,  I  don't  think  nuich  of  her.  She  may  have  been  hand- 
some, but  is  quite  j^asse'e ;  bless  me!  there's  my  Lord  as  defer- 
ential to  her  as  if  she  was  his  own  mother." 

''  0  Flo.  !  what  handsome  girls  those  are  !  I  declare  I  think 
they  must  be  the  Miss  Erles,  and  so  prettily  dressed.  Coral 
looks  so  well  Avith  white  nmslin." 

"  My  dear,  I  supjiose  they  must  be  the  Miss  Erles,  they  look 
just  like  g}-psies "  ^. 

"  O  !  Flo.,  that  must  be  Margaret ;  see  the  beautiful  head, 
half  turned  away.     Now  we  shall  see  dear,  dear  Lotty." 

"  My  heavens  !  if  there  is  not  that  old  Scotchwoman,  with  a 
gown  and  cap  more  staring  than  ever." 

"  Do  you  think,  Flo.,  that  nice-looking,  ladylike  person,  talk- 
ing so  happily  to  the  gentleman  in  black,  is " 

"  "\Vhy,  it  is  Miss  Leigh  that  was.  How  matrimony  has  im- 
proved her." 

"  ^Irs.  Frank's  sister :  no  Avonder  she  is  nice  then.  I  never 
saw  a  person  I  liked  so  much,  and  Robert  is  in  such  admiration 
of  their  house,  and  to-morrow  I  am  to  see  the  twins."  Carry 
paused  and  sighed. 

Luckily  the  'squire  passed  by,  and  took  the  opportunity  of 
whispering,  "You  look  twenty  per  cent,  prettier  than  she  does." 
The  sin:  was  indicated  by  a  look. 

"  Here  are  the  Erie  boys  ;  dear  me  !  what  fine,  handsome 
young  men  they  are  grown.  And  see,  there  are  dear  Lotty  and 
Margaret,  too  ;  they  are  coming  towards  us." 

'*  How  lovely  Margaret  looks,"  exclaimed  Carry. 

"  Black  velvet  is  always  becoming,"  responded  Flo.,  "  but  I 
declare  Lotty  looks  like  a  little  child,  in  that  white  muslin  frock, 
ami  clinging  so  If)  Margaret." 

Their  schoollcUows  now  greeted  them,  and  ]\Ir.  Royston 
observed  witli  much  pleasure,  and  no  little  pride,  that  both  Lotty 
and  Margaret  told  Carry  tliey  thought  it  very  kind  of  her  to 
come,  as  they  knew  slic  must  feel  a  great  deal  at  leaving  her 
children.     Also,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  he  observed  that 


AND   HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  859 

Lord  Erlscourt  asked  her  to  dance,  a  favor  he  did  not  grant  Flo. 
And  farther,  he  overheard  Brian  remarking  to  Hugh,  — 

"  I  did  not  know  Mrs.  Royston,  did  yon?  " 

"  No,  she  looks  as  young  again,  without  that  horrid  baby." 

The  next  day  they  were  all  expected  at  Beau  Court,  and  the 
company  mustered  more  than  ever.  Lotty's  trousseau  was  to 
be  displayed,  settlements  to  be  signed,  and  various  little  matters 
to  be  done,  that  are  always  requisite  on  the  eve  of  a  weddin"-. 
The  number  of  Mrs.  Beauvilliers  appeared  to  be  continually  on 
the  increase,  until  it  became  a  hopeless  matter  to  distinguish 
which  was  which. 

Lotty  seemed  to  cling  still  closer  to  Margaret ;  and  though 
again  in  her  simple  white  frock,  an  expression,  half-awe,  half- 
fear,  wholly  sweet  and  tender,  took  from  her  face  the  childish 
look,  and  told  but  too  truly  that  a  woman's  heart  dwelt  beneath. 
In  a  few  hours  she  would  have  to  promise  vows,  a  love  to  last 
until  death,  a  compact  that  only  the  grave  would  dissolve.  To 
that  little,  faithful,  truthful,  magnanimous  heart,  this  Avas  no 
light  task.     Life  or  death  could  otfer  no  more  solemn  act. 

Margaret  had  laid  aside  her  usual  black  robes  for  this  even- 
ing and  the  morrow.  A  full,  flowing  robe  of  silver  gray  swept 
its  graceful  folds  around  her ;  a  few  delicate  white  roses  clus- 
tered in  the  dark  hair,  and  falling  in  long  wreaths  upon  her  fair 
neck,  added  such  a  queenly  beauty  to  her  appearance,  that  the 
spectators  gazed  only  to  gaze  again,  for  fear  the  lovely  vision 
might  be  seen  no  more. 

Lady  Katherine  rustled  about  in  a  silk  that  would  have  stood 
of  itself,  without  her  upright  and  stately  old  figure  to  support  it. 

Mrs.  Laird's  satin  was  certainly  gorgeous,  and  if  she  had 
procured  another  for  the  ceremony  of  the  next  day,  green  spec- 
tacles would  be  required  to  endure  the  blaze.  Mrs.  Royston 
looked  even  pi-ettier  than  the  night  befoi-e,  in  the  couleur  D'Ah- 
ricot,  and  black  lace  flounces.  It  was  Mrs.  Bankes  who  looked 
the  dowdy,  thought  the  'Squire.  The  Miss  Erles  were  hand- 
somer than  ever,  in  flowing  wliite  tarletan,  looped  up  with  moss 
roses. 

But  as  for  describing  all  the  company,  and  all  their  dresses, 
and  all  they  said  and  did,  only  the  able  pen  of  the  chronicler  of 
the  celebrated  marriage  of  Sir  Charles  and  Lady  Grandison  can 
do  that.  A  full  and  particular  account  of  the  trousseau  might 
be  given  ;  but  then  so  varied,  so  different,  so  wonderful  are 
people's  tastes,  such  a  description  might  incur  a  great  deal  of 
censure. 


360  MARGARET 

The  sight  of  it  was,  however,  properly  appreciated  by  those 
who  did  see  it ;  aud  uonc  showed  their  seuse  of  such  a  favor  in 
a  more  pointed  and  purticidiir  manner  than  Mrs.  Bankes.  She 
gazed  at  everything,  touched  all  the  silks,  examined  all  the  flow- 
ers, inspected  the  laces,  counted  the  gloves  aud  handkerchiefs, 
passed  her  opinion  upon  the  whole  ;  and,  after  a  long  and 
eloquent  dissertation  upon  trousscaax  in  general,  and  this  one  in 
particular,  and  the  shock  she  had  endured  when  she  had  learned 
that  Lotty's  first  marriage  had  been  concluded  without  this  indis- 
pensable and  never-ought-to-be-omitted  marriage  article,  and 
liigldy  necessary  part  of  the  ceremony  ;  she  was  now  bound  to 
confess  that  the  omission  had  been  amply  repaired  —  in  fact,  it 
was  a  wonder  how  so  small  a  thing  could  require  so  vast 
a  wardrobe.  However,  Lotty  had  nothing  to  do  with  that,  aud 
Lad  only  selected,  out  of  all  the  things  presented  for  her  choice,  a 
habit :  Mrs.  Bankes,  not  knowing  this,  of  course  gave  Lotty 
credit  for  exquisite  taste  and  judgment ;  but,  pi'operly  speaking, 
the  praise  all  belonged  to  the  Beauvillians.  Tiie  evening  was 
further  remarkable  for  the  presentation  of  innumerable  quanti- 
ties of  presents,  which  it  would  be  endless  to  mention  here. 

However,  a  glad  smile  was  seen  stealing  over  the  little,  pale, 
somewhat  anxious  face  of  the  bride  as  Bear  appeared,  and  with 
infinite  delicacy  both  of  touch  and  judgment,  as  befitted  such  a 
gentleman,  he  laid  on  her  lap  a  small  parcel.  Outside,  it  was 
directed  "for  Lotty,"  aud  a  furtive  glance  at  Brian,  showed  that 
Lotty  recognized  his  handwriting.  Inside  was  written  "  Bear's 
present,"  and  the  writing  this  time  made  Lotty  glance  at  Hugh. 

Certainly  Bear  had  shown  great  taste  in  his  present :  they 
were  bracelets,  consisting  of  two  rows  of  single  pearls,  and  on 
the  clasp  of  one  was  a  tiny  likeness  of  such  a  handsome  face, 
with  fair  eurls  and  sjicaking  eyes,  that  seemed  to  say,  whichever 
way  she  turned  them,  "  I  love  you,  Lotty." 

Brian  and  Hugh  underwent  a  pantomimic  act  of  self-congratu- 
latif)n,  as  they  saw  Lotty's  brilliant  blush  of  pleasure,  and  the 
quick,  shy  way  in  which  she  concealed  her  treasure  ;  on  the 
other  was  a  most  amiable,  but  canine  visage,  with  deep,  loving 
eyes  it  is  true,  but  they  only  said,  "  I  am  Bear,  what  do  you 
want  with  me?"  Lotty  kissed  this  portrait  openly,  and  theu 
kissed  Bear,  and  said,  "  (io  aud  thank  tliem  for  me,  Bear." 
AVhich  Bear  tried  to  do  ;  but  Brian  and  Hugh  would  have  no 
thanks  Ijy  proxy.  Said  they  U>  Bear,  ^  We  will  wait  xnitil  to- 
morrow, then  Basil  has  giveu  us  leave  —  ah!  you  know  what, 
dou't  you,  old  fellow  !  "     Theu  Queeu  Margaret  put  her  present 


AND    HER    BRIDESMAIDS.  361 

into  Lotty's  hand ;  and  it  was  a  necklace  to  match  the  bracelets, 
but  the  clasp  was  deep  blue  enamel,  Avith  five  large  pearls  con- 
fidingly resting  on  the  bright  surface,  as  if  they  were  aware  how 
the  royal  color  showed  off  their  matchless  form  and  hue ;  but 
Margaret  touched  a  little  spring  —  the  blue  sea,  Avith  its  fair 
freight,  disappeared,  and  there  was  a  fairer  pearl  within  —  the 
lovely,  loving  face  of  Margaret. 

Ah !  Lotty  was  pleased,  and  she  almost  rose  from  her  seat, 
and  looked  round  for  Basil,  that  he  might  join  in  her  delight. 
He  was  close  by,  and  his  fair  curls  mixed  with  her  dark  ones, 
as  she  whispered  her  pleasure  at  that,  and  something  else  hidden 
in  her  hand  —  the  honest  face  of  Bear  was  permitted  to  lie  ex- 
posed to  every  eye. 

"Ask  Margaret  to  show  you  a  present  she  had  to-day,"  said 
Basil. 

Margaret  smilingly  unclasped  a  brooch,  something  like  the 
clasp  of  Lotty's  necklace,  and,  touching  a  spring  as  before, 
a  bewitching  little  well-known  face,  with  the  curls  all  rumpled, 
as  if  the  fingers  had  been  running  through  them,  with  dazzling, 
glorious  eyes,  looking  as  if  they  said,  "My  Queen  Margaret." 
Lotty  beheld  herself. 

"  How  could  you  have  it  taken  without  my  knowing?"  she 
said,  blushing  at  its  beauty,  and  laughing  at  Margaret's  pleasure. 

"  It  was  copied  from  the  picture  your  poor  father  had  taken 
of  you,  just  before  you  went  to  school." 

"  Then  that  makes  it  so  childish-looking,"  said  Lotty. 

"  It  is  exactly  like  my  Lotty  at  present,  only  her  hair  is  per- 
haps in  better  curl." 

"  Curl  indeed !  "  said  Lotty,  beginning  to  look  saucy,  and 
then  becoming  more  shy  than  ever. 

"  So  Mrs.  Bankes  did  get  here,  after  all,  Margaret,"  said 
Basil,  for  he  found  it  ineffectual  to  provoke  Lotty  any  further. 

"  Yes,  Pro.  was  so  kind  as  to  ask  her,  and  really,  Basil,  upon 
the  whole,  she  has  been  very  good  this  evening ;  and  as  for  Carry, 
she  is  as  nice  as  possible." 


CHAPTER    LXXVII. 

For  twenty  miles  and  more  round  Beau  Court,  no  one  sat 
still  on  this  eve  of  the  twenty-third  of  April,  and  it  was  supposed 
31 


362  MARGARET 

that  few  went  to  bed  that  night,  for  fear  they  should  be  too  late 
in  the  morning.  Everybo<ly  was  to  be  at  church  at  eleven 
o'clock  ;  but  previous  to  that,  Lord  Erlscourt  had  sent  up  to 
inquire  of  the  numerous  handmaidens,  if  he  might  be  permitted 
a  few  moments'  conversation  with  his  bride.  If  all  the  reports 
of  her  appearance  in  her  bridal  dress  Avere  true,  it  was,  indeed, 
only  judicious  that  he  should  see  her,  ere  he  met  her  at  the 
altar.  Every  fresh  person  who  came  flying  down  the  stairs, 
declared  that  never  had  such  an  exquisite  little  bride  been  seen 
before.  Basil  eutered  Lotty's  presence  fur  the  first  time,  on  the 
morning  so  eventful  to  them  both,  as  a  bridegroom  should. 

Serious  and  subdued  in  manner,  as  if  he  knew  God  was  about 
to  bestow  on  him  one  of  his  best,  fairest,  noblest  gifts,  yet  did  a 
serene  joy  beam  from  his  eyes.  He  knew  full  well  that  no 
liglit  words  were  spoken  between  them;  and  while  he  could 
hardly  restrain  his  happiness,  that  at  last  he  had  not  only  gained 
the  little  wild  thing  to  be  his  own  sweet  wife  forever,  but  that 
her  heart  was  wholly  and  entirely  placed  in  his  keeping,  yet  did 
he  know  one  little  regi-et,  one  sad  thought  afflicted  her — she  was 
DO  longer  to  be  all  in  all  to  her  Margaret.  It  was  true,  that  her 
marriage  gave  Margaret  the  greatest  happiness  she  could  now 
know ;  but  such  was  Lotty's  love  for  her,  one  word  of  regret 
spoken  would  have  proved  that  their  love  passed  all  other ;  and 
this  word  even  Basil  would  have  forgiven,  for  Margaret's  sake. 

Certainly  none  of  the  partial  judges  of  Lotty  in  her  wedding- 
dress  had  overrated  her  appearance.  Basil  could  have  knelt 
down  to  admire  the  exquisite  little  figure,  the  lovely,  blushing, 
innocent  child-face  — 

"  A  rosebud 

Set  with  little  wilful  thorns, 

And  sweet  as  English  uir  could  make  her." 

Her  dress  was  of  white  lace,  purest,  finest,  most  valuable 
Brussels.  That,  all  the  Beauvillians  had  taken  care  should  be 
the  case.  But,  as  she  was  not  to  be  wliolly  in  white,  beneath 
she  wore  a  silk  slip  of  a  pale  pink,  that  shone  through  the  folds 
on  the  lace  dress  like  a  blush  rose.  Bound  her  slight  throat 
gleamed  a  diamond  necklace,  on  her  arms  the  two  matchless 
hraciJL-ts.  Over  those  rich,  luxuriant  curls  was  a  long,  floating, 
gossamer  veil,  of  such  beauty  and  fineness,  that  it  was  fortunate 
for  Lotty  a  curl  or  two  slrayi'd  out  of  its  place,  to  assist  the  veil 
in  hiding  her  lace  from  Basil's  delighted  gaze.  But  the  "little 
•wilful  thorns  "  showed  themsclvca. 


AND  HER  BRIDESMAIDS.  363 

"  Don't,  Basil ;  I  will  not  have  you  stare  so  at  me."  And  the 
little,  tiny,  satined  foot  made  a  sort  of  faint  attempt  to  stamp. 

"  You  may  let  me  look  a  little,  my  Lotty,  on  a  sight  I  never 
saw  before,  and  may  not  see  again  ;  but  I  am  glad  to  perceive 
you  have  your  birthday  presents  on,  because  my  wedding-gift  is 
to  match  them."     And  he  showed  some  cases  in  his  hand. 

"  This  I  shall  keep  a  little  while  longer,"  he  said,  displaying 
a  diamond  hoop  ring  ;  "but  this  you  can  wear,  my  Lotty."  And 
he  gave  her  a  brooch  of  diamonds  to  match  the  others.  "  And 
this,  too,"  he  continued,  placing  in  her  hands  a  circlet  for  the 
hair,  of  diamonds,  so  large  and  beautiful  that  each  seemed  a 
separate  star. 

"  Thank  you,  Basil,"  said  Lotty  ;  but  letting  them  all  fall  to 
the  ground,  she  continued,  in  a  low  whisper,  "  but  you  ,are  sure 
you  do  not  repent ;  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  Love  you  !  my  heart's  treasure,  my  love,  my  wife-so-soon- 
to-be  !  —  you  do  not  doubt  it  ?  "  And  he  knelt  down  before  her, 
with  his  arms  clasped  round  her,  so  that  she  might  read  his 
truth  in  his  eyes. 

She  was  satisfied  apparently,  for  she  drew  her  veil  round  her  ; 
but  he  could  see  the  flush  of  delight  that  crimsoned  face,  neck, 
and  arms,  even  down  to  the  small  fingers. 

Luckily  for  the  fate  of  Lotty's  dress,  Mrs.  Beauvilliers  and 
Mrs.  Laird  came  in,  and  shrieked  at  Lord  Erlscourt's  profane 
touch,  more  full  of  love  and  delight  than  consideration  for  her 
toilet.  So  he  was  turned  out  peremptorily ;  and  when  he  saw 
his  bride  again,  the  veil  was  readjusted,  the  circlet  of  star-like 
diamonds  confined  the  rebellious  curls,  and,  like  all  the  rest  of 
the  numerous  loving  eyes,  he  thought  a  little  Peri  had  stepped 
down  from  her  airy  home,  "  to  love  and  be  loved  by  him  "  for-, 
ever. 

So  the  ceremony  began,  and  even  John  Grey  was  satisfied, 
for  the  clear,  flute-like  notes,  pronouncing  the  words,  "  love, 
honor,  and  obey,"  were  heard  at  the  other  end  of  the  church. 

After  it  was  over,  every  Beauvillian  would  have  deemed  him- 
self aggrieved  and  injured  if  they  had  not  one  salute  from  the 
bride ;  and  as  for  Brian  and  Hugh,  they,  of  course,  being  bride- 
groomsmen,  had  the  first  chance,  and  were  not  disposed  to  give 
up  their  claims  to  the  stoutest  BeauviUian  there. 

"  Thank  you,  Lotty,"  said  they,  "  that  is  much  better  than 
kissing  Milly's  baby.  Now  you  are  our  sister,  and  we  are 
entitled  to  a  fair  share  of  brotherly  salutes." 

"  Come,  boys,"  said  Basil,  "  if  you  don't  make  way  for  us  to 


364  MARGARET 

get  out  of  this  crush,  T  shall  stop  all  your  privileges  for  a  year 
to  c'ouie.  I  thiuk  1  had  better  take  you  up  iu  my  arms,  my  wife, 
my  darling  !  and  carry  you  out." 

"  No,  no,  indeed,  that  you  shall  not,"  said  Lotty,  indignantly. 

Brian  and  Hugh  proved  themselves  good  bridegroomsmeu, 
and  by  dint  of  their  exertions,  the  bride  and  bridegroom  had 
•way  made  for  them  to  their  carriage.  Then  Basil  strewed  hand- 
fuls  of  silver,  and,  taking  advantage  of  the  rush,  he  placed  Lotty 
in  the  carriage,  and  sprang  iu  after  her. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  clasping  her  close,  "  mine  forever." 

But  the  joy  and  hilarity  of  everybody  rose  to  such  a  pitch,  and 
the  little  bride  showed  such  fluctuating  spirits,  that  Lord  Erls- 
court  privately  ordered  his  carriage  round  an  hour  before  the 
time  appointed. 

As  Lotty  appeared  in  her  dark-green  travelling  dress,  her 
little  straw  bonnet,  with  white  ribbons  and  violet  flowers,  the 
handsome  chariot,  with  its  four  gray  steeds  and  smart  post- 
boys, who  had  all  six  been  laying  themselves  up  in  lavender 
for  the  last  month,  to  come  out  prancing  and  gay  on  this  par- 
ticular occasion,  drove  up  to  the  door  —  it  certainly  was 

•'  One  touch  to  her  hand, 
One  word  in  her  ear  ;  " 

for,  without  one  word,  without  an  adieu,  Basil  lifted  his  wife 
into  the  carriage,  jumped  in  after  her,  the  steps  were  up,  the 
door  shut,  the  magic  words,  "  all  right !  "  said,  and  away 
bounded  the  carriage,  —  with  the  servant  clinging  behind,  and 
Bear  careering  his  best  after  it,  a  great  favor  hanging  over  one 
ear — just  as  if  they  were  all  impelled  out  of  sight  by  four 
express  engines. 

The  amiable  Beauvillians  were  dumb-struck,  and  only  Brian 
and  Hugh  had  wits  remaining  to  throw  an  old  shoe,  for  luck, 
aft(.'r  tlie  fast  receding  carriage.  But  at  least  they  had  seen 
Lord  Erlscourt's  liice  as  he  sat  down  by  his  darling,  his  bride, 
his  wife.  At  all  events,  they  had  heard  the  tones  of  his  voice, 
as  he  turned  to  her,  and  said,  — 

"  My  wife,  now  my  own  Lotty  !  " 

And  so,  feeling  that  they  had  done  a  good  deed  that  day ;  that 
they  had  seen,  by  their  girl's  face,  that  she  was  happy  ;  they  re- 
ported to  the  only  thing  left  them,  namely,  to  shake  hands  with 
each  otlicr,  ami  indulge  in  boundless  self-congratulations. 

This  they  continued  to  do  without  cessation  and  with  renewed 
vigor,  commeucing  again  and  again,  when  word  was  passed  that 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  365 

everybody  must  prepare  for  dancing.  So  rooms  were  cleared, 
the  baud  —  or  bauds  —  sent  for,  gloves  tried  on,  lamps  lighted, 
and  everything  in  a  high  state  of  commencement  by  seven  or 
eight  o'clock. 

The  gentle,  stately  Margaret  was  borne  oiF  in  the  powerful 
grasp  of  a  mighty  Beauvillian,  and  found  herself  flying,  with 
resistless  speed,  down  the  long  rows  of  a  good,  old-fashioned 
country  dance. 

The  dignified  old  Lady  Katherine  was  in  the  strong  hands  of 
another  Beauvillian,  and  was  seen  bobbing  up  and  down,  out  of 
all  tune  and  place,  but  intensely  delighted  and  happy. 

Mrs.  Laird,  spite  of  her  strict  Scotch  notions,  found  herself 
panting  and  breathless  at  the  bottom  of  forty  couples,  without 
ever  having  been  able  to  bring  in  a  word  of  remonstrance  at  the 
extraordinary  and  Avonderful  position  in  Avhich  she  was  placed. 

The  pretty  Miss  Ei-les,  one  with  a  most  devoted  partner,  and 
the  dark,  but  still  handsome-looking  mother,  met  at  all  corners, 
all  turning  of  hands,  and  setting  of  partners  ;  while,  as  for  Brian 
and  Hugh,  they  only  reached  the  bottom  of  the  long  country 
dance,  to  bow  to  their  late  partner,  and  snatch  a  new  one,  and 
rush  up  to  the  top  to  begin  again.  Mrs.  Bankes  and  the  'Squire, 
and  Mr.  Bankes  and  Mrs.  Royston,  were  to  be  met  everywhere  ; 
and  Dr.  Laird  finding  it  impossible  to  keep  his  wig  on  in  the 
respectable  state  of  rectitude  that  Mrs.  Laird  deemed  proper, 
had  at  last  thrown  it  oflf  altogether,  and  was  to  be  seen  with 
rubicund  face 'and  shining  bald  head  in  every  direction.  Even 
the  little,  fair,  tiny  twins,  under  the  able  superintendence  of  their 
delighted  father,  were  performing  a  sort  of  extemporaneous  dance 
of  his  and  their  concoction,  in  a  remote  corner. 

After  an  alarming  quantity  of  dancing,  there  was  supper,  and 
after  supper  speeches,  in  which  every  Beauvillian  assured  every 
other  person  this  was  the  happiest  day  of  their  lives  ;  and  every 
other  person  cordially  agreed. 

Then  ensued  such  mutual  compliments,  such  reciprocity  of 
sentiments,  such  a  chorus  of  praises  and  interchange  of  good 
wishes,  that  every  man  supposed,  and  every  lady,  too,  that  they 
were  sitting  next  to  the  dearest  friend  they  had  in  the  world, 
save  and  except  the  bride  and  bridegroom. 

Then  dancing  commenced  again,  fast  and  furious.  Margaret 
and  Lady  Katherine  were  the  first  to  retire  ;  but,  lo  !  it  had 
sounded  five  of  the  clock  ere  Mrs.  Laird  could  tear  herself 
away  —  in  fact,  she  Avould  have  deemed  it  rank  heresy  to  the 
honor  of  the  day  had  she  given  in  sooner  than  any  of  the  others. 

31* 


366  MARGARET 

"Wearily  slie  crawled  up  stairs,  shocked  to  see  daylight  beginning 
to  peep  through  the  shutters  ;  and,  as  she  tied  on  a  nightcap  of 
vast  frills  and  long  winding  strings,  thus  she  discoursed  to  the 
good  doctor,  who  had  discreetly  gone  to  bed  an  hour  ago  ;  but 
Tvas  possessed  with  a  vague,  uneasy  notion  that  he  had  left  hia 
wig  under  the  stairs. 

"  Ech,  doctor !  but  these  are  wonderful  folk.  They  started 
i'  the  morn  afore  the  first  meal  a  shaking  hands,  and  wad 
ye  believe  it,  they  are  aye  at  it  the  noo,  at  this  awfu'  hour 
of  night,  or  if  I  spak  God's  truth,  the  morn  o'  anither  day ; 
what  wi'  dancing,  jigging,  and  shaking  hands,  I  am  amaist 
dune.  I  ne'er  thought  to  gang  on  i'  this  fashion  at  ony  time 
of  my  life,  least  ways  the  noo,  and  me  just  o'  the  stroke  o* 
threescore.  But  they  wadna  be  refused  ;  one  was  aye  o'  the 
floor,  jigging  awa  wi'  ane  of  them  stout  fine  auld  gentlemen, 
and  no  to  hear  a  word  of  '  will  ye,  nill  ye.'  Aye  me.  The 
doctor's  no  minding  me,  he's  just  fast  like  any  baby,  and 
nae  wonder.  More  betoken  1  kenned  he  was  a  bit  unsteady, 
and  there's  nae  doubt  but  he  has  a  hail  bottle  under  his  belt. 
And  hoo  I  am  to  ca'  shame  on  him  i'  tlie  morn  is  past  ma 
keuuing,  tor  deed  it  was  nae  mair  nor  respectful  an  proper 
of  him  to  glorify  the  day." 


CHAPTER    THE    LAST. 

Carry  was  sitting  by  her  tire,  also  prepared  for  bed,  about  the 
Bame  hour  that  Mrs.  Laird  delivered  the  last  sentiment  ;  she 
was  far  from  tired  or  sleepy  —  on  the  contrary,  deeply  buried  in 
thought,  wlieu  Flo.  burst  into  the  room. 

"  It  is  sliamerul  the  way  in  which  Fred,  behaves  !  He  will 
not  come  to  bed,  though  I  am  as  tired  as  a  dog  ;  and  just  as 
I  get  into  a  nice  sleep,  he  will  be  rattling  up,  nuiking  such  a 
noise;  —  but  what  arc  you  sitting  here  for,  instead  of  getting 
into  bed  ?  " 

"  I  am  waiting  t(j  rub  Robert's  shoulder.  "We  could  not  bring 
his  man,  and  ever  since  his  accident,  the  doctor  ordered  it  to  be 
rubbed  with  White's  oils." 

"  Mighty  conjugal,  indeed!  He  might  have  let  you  off  this 
one  night." 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  367 

"  Of  course  he  would  ;  but  he  has  been  so  kind  to  me,  I  wait 
at  my  own  wish." 

"  Well,  I  do  hope.  Carry,  you  will  regard  what  I  tell  you, 
and  think  less  of  your  babies  and  more  of  him." 

Carry  smiled. 

"  A  man  that  can  go  and  give  his  wife,  in  one  day,  four  or 
five  beautiful  dresses,  and  scores  of  other  things  besides,  is  not 
to  be  despised ;  mark  my  words,  Cai-ry." 

"Flo.,  I  smiled  to  think  of  your  ever  having  given  me  such 
advice  —  I  don't  remember  it.  But  I  wished  to  speak  to  you. 
The  last  three  days  have  made  me  think  more  than  I  ever  did 
before,  Flo." 

"  It  is  high  time  you  should  begin  to  regard  something  be- 
sides those  brats." 

"  Do  you  notice  Mrs.  Frank,  with  those  darling  little  twins, 
Flo.  ?  " 

"  I  must  allow  they  are  very  pretty,  nice,  little,  Avell-behaved 
children." 

"  Do  you  see  how  she  puts  their  papa  forward  in  everything, 
making  them  love  and  respect  him  as  the  first  of  human  beings, 
though  he  is  so  distractedly  fond  of  them  ?  " 

"  He  would  spoil  them  past  everything,  but  for  her,  Carry  ;  it 
is  lucky  she  has  no  more  —  I  don't  think  he  would  have  eyes  for 
any  other  child." 

"•  True,  and  that  shows  how  judicious  she  is.  Do  yovi  re- 
member how  we  laughed  at  and  despised  the  poor  Misses  Leigh, 
for  being  odd  old  maids  ?  and  now  how  different  they  are." 

"  Fred,  said  he  never  saw  such  a  well-managed  house  as  Mr. 
Frank's  ;  and  did  you  taste  the  curry  ?  —  even  Pierre  could  make 
nothing  like  it." 

"And  to  see  Mr.  Grey  with  h.'o  wife  ;  no  wonder,  Flo.,  I  sit 
here  and  think." 

"  Well,  live  and  learn.  Carry.  I  am  delighted  to  find  that,  at 
last,  you  take  counsel  by  me." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Flo.,"  answered  Carry,  with  spirit ;  "  so 
far  from  taking  your  counsel,  I  have  been  calling  to  mind 
a  conversation  I  once  had  with  you.  Do  you  remember  the 
avenue  at  Court  Leigh?  You  and  I  were  there,  and  poor  Au- 
gusta. Ah,  Flo.  !  whenever  I  think  of  that  fine,  handsome  girl, 
and  her  sade  fate,  I  cannot  but  weep." 

"  Very  ridiculous  of  you  !  she  fully  deserved  it." 

"  Wliy,  Flo.,  I  have  been  thinking  you  and  I  have  not  con- 
ducted ourselves  much  better." 


368  MARGARET 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  if  you  please,"  answered  Flo.,  in  high 
indignation. 

'■  Then  1  say  this  :  on  that  day  on  which  avc  "walked  up  and 
down  the  avenue,  you  compared  Augusta,  yourself,  and  me  with 
Millicent,  Margaret,  and  Lotty.  I  agreed  with  you  in  thinking, 
not  only  that  they  were  sadly  to  be  phied,  but  owed  mucli  of 
their  iate  to  their  own  folly.  And  -(I'e  all  three  agreed,  poor  Au- 
gusta, you,  and  1,  that  we  would  not  change  places  with  them  ; 
and  now,  Flo.,  within  these  three  days,  Avitliin  this  hour,  I  have 
been  wishing  1  was  even  as  good  as  JNIrs.  Frank." 

''  And  a  very  proper  thing,  too,"  interrui)ted  Flo. 

"  Augusta  died  a  horrible  death,"  continued  Carry  ;  "  and  you, 
Flo.,  can  you  still  say  you  are  better  than  the  three  schoolfellows 
we  despised?  Do  you  think  yovu-  husband  loves  you  as  he 
ought?  or  that  he  will  continue  to  pay  you  even  due  respect — 
(pray  don't  be  impatient  with  me) — if  you  go  on  in  your 
present  habits?  All  his  family  dislike  you,  and  think  you  are 
the  real  cause  of  the  troubles  he  has  fallen  into  ;  and  you  know, 
Flo.,  there  is  more  truth  in  that " 

"  And,  pray,  what  do  you  think  of  your  own  precious  self?" 
interru])ted  Flo.,  in  her  hottest  mood. 

"  I  shall  have  nothing  to  say  for  myself,  if  I  do  not  take 
timely  warning.  Indeed,  I  shudder  when  1  reflect  that,  but  for 
tills  visit,  but  for  Lotty's  fortunate  Avcdding,  my  eyes  miglit  never 
have  !)oen  opened,  I  might  have  alienated  dear  Robert  forever." 

"  Truly,  a  most  wonderful  loss " 

"  Do  not  be  angry,  Flo.  ;  I  feel  sure  you  must  reflect,  when 
we  compare  our  situations  now.  Millicent,  as  ever,  retains  a 
place  in  the  estimation  of  all  who  know  her,  that  none  can  envy 
her,  she  so  truly  deserves  it.     And  Lotty,  Flo. " 

"Lotty  was  always  unlike  ;  ny  one  else,"  allowed  Flo.,  rather 
pettishly. 

"  Wliat  a  vast  amount  of  love  have  we  seen  poured  out  upon 
our  little  child-schoolfi-llow  I  so  spontaneously  bestowed,  does  it 
not  speak  and  say,  '  None  more  Avorthy  ?'  But,  Margaret !  — 
ah,  Flo.  !  who  can  look  at  her,  and  not  wish  to  be  better? 
With  a  stricken  look  in  her  eyes,  with  her  heart  half  in  hcaviMi, 
how  she  still  treads  the  earth  among  us,  our  queen  and  head. 
Her  grief  is  not  selfish,  though  so  great,  for  how  gently  does  she 
interest  herself  in  all  our  concerns.  She  said  I  was  very  good 
fo  conif.  and  leave  my  children  ;  and,  smiling,  added,  th;it  I 
should  be  pleased  to  see  the  difference  a  few  days  made  in  them. 
No  advice,  Flo.,  no  hints,  but  this  little  remark,  to  remove  (I 


AND   HER   BRIDESMAIDS.  869 

know  she  thought)  any  pain  I  might  have  for  doing  so.  And 
you,  Flo.,  when  Mr.  Bankes  was  complaining  yesterday  of  the 
long  time  you  kept  him  waiting,  she  spoke  for  you  as  one  sister 
would  speak  of  another,  and  your  husband  listened,  and  thought 
kindly  of  you  then,  Flo.,  for  none  can  gainsay  the  saintlike  Mar- 
garet. Though  she  has  lost  her  Harold,  and  will  carry  to  her 
grave  a  riven  heart,  yet  who  would  not  wish  to  be  her  ?  And  as 
that  cannot  be,  Flo.,  it  seems  next  best  to  me  that  we  should 
begin  a  good  deed  on  Lotty's  wedding  day,  with  God's  help  —  a 
deed  that  Lotty  will  herself  love  and  foster.  It  is,  so  to  act 
that  we  may  prove  worthy  to  have  been 

"  Margaret's  Bridesiviaids.'* 


FIQUE: 

A  Tale  of  the  English  Aristocracy. 

1  vol.     12mo.     Price  $1.75. 


Three  thousand  eight  hundred  and  seventy-six  new  books  were 
published  in  England  this  last  year,  which  is  about  the  average 
number  of  past  years. 

Thirteen  years  ago  Pique  was  first  published  in  London,  and 
up  to  the  present  time,  notwithstanding  the  enormous  number 
of  new  books  that  have  been  issued,  the  effect  of  which  is  to 
crowd  the  old  ones  out  of  sight,  this  remarkable  novel  has  con- 
tinued to  have  a  large  sale. 

This  is  the  strongest  praise  that  can  be  bestowed  on  any  book. 

It  is  not  in  the  least  "  sensational,"  but  relies  solely  on  its  rare 
beauty  of  style  and  truthfulness  to  nature  for  its  popularity. 

It  has  the  merit  of   being    amusing,   pleasantly  written,  and 


engrossing. 


The  characters  being  high-bred  men  and  women,  are  charm- 
ing companions  for  an  hour's  solitude,  and  one  puts  the  book  aside 
regretfully,  even  as  one  closes  the  eyes  on  a  delicious  vision. 
The  Aiiierican  edition  has  taken  every  one  by  surprise,  that  so 
remarkably  good  a  novel  should  have  so  long  escaped  attention. 

Every  body  is  charmed  with  it,  and  its  sale  is  immense,  and 
wiU  endure  for  years  to  come. 


FAITH  mum  GIRlHOflD. 

By  the  Author  of  "  Boys  at  Ohequasset." 
1  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth.     Price  $1.50. 


This  charming  story  fills  a  void  long  felt  for  something  for  a 
young  girl,  growing  into  womanhood,  to  read. 

It  depicts  that  bewitching  period  in  life,  lying  between  four- 
teen and  TWENTY,  with  its  noble  aspirations,  and  fresh  enthusi- 
asm. It  is  written  by  a  very  accomplished  lady,  whose  previous 
book  was  universally  pronounced  to  be  '•'■  the  best  Boys'  book 
written." 

A  lady  of  rare  culture,  and  wide  experience,  says,  — 

"  'Faith  Gartney's  Girlhood,'  is  a  noble,  good  work,  that  could  only 
have  been  accomplished  by  an  elevated  mind  united  to  a  chaste,  tender 
heart.  From  the  first  page  to  the  last,  the  impression  is  received  of  a  life 
which  has  been  lived;  the  characters  are  genuine,  well  drawn,  skilfully 
presented ;  tliey  are  received  at  once  with  kind,  friendly  greeting,  and 
followed  with  interest,  till  the  last  page  compels  a  reluctant  farewell. 

'"The  book  is  written  for  girls,  growing  as  they  grow  to  womanhood.' 
The  story  has  an  interest,  far  beyond  that  found  in  modern  romances 
of  the  day,  conveyed  in  pure,  refined  language ;  suggestive,  pleasing 
thoughts  are  unfolded  on  every  page;  the  reflective  and  descriptive 
passages  are  natural,  simple,  and  exquisitely  finished. 

"  In  these  days,  when  the  tendency  of  society  is  to  educate  girls  for 
heartless,  aimless,  factitious  life,  a  book  like  this  is  to  be  welcomed  and 
gratefully  received.  Wherever  it  is  read,  it  will  be  retained  as  a  thought- 
ful, suggestive  —  if  silent  —  friend." 

J^:;^  Parents,  give  it  a  wide  circulation. 


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